Smoak in your eyes
by thegirlwhocan
Summary: After a fight with Oliver, Felicity quits her job at Queen's Consolidated and her place on the team; after a chance encounter with college buddy Ted Kord, she takes a job at his company Kord Industries. But will she find another secret? (Apparently the Arrow writers wanted Ted for s3 but DC refused, so they had Ray Palmer instead. This is the crossover that could have been.)
1. Prologue

**'Prologue'**

Felicity was done.

Over the years she had taken a lot of crap from Oliver, and taken it without complaint because she knew he had a lot to deal with, but enough was enough. She had shouldered his sharp words and cutting remarks whenever he was pissed and she was the only one around – but not this time.

It had been getting worse for weeks. Ever since his ex-buddy turned psychopath with a vendetta Slade Wilson had shown up, Oliver had acted like the world was ending. He hardly smiled anymore and every waking moment was dedicated to saving the city. She doubted he had slept at all in the past two weeks. His moods became more frequent and darker, too.

It was as if even after years of being free of it, all it took was one face from the island and Oliver was back there again, trapped and resentful and lashing out at the world.

She and Diggle tried to understand, but he had been snapping at them all week, acting like they were to blame. Frankly she was growing sick of it. Whining wasn't going to stop Slade – fighting was. And they needed each other to do that, but they weren't a team anymore. Oliver was a bomb. They knew he was on the verge of exploding – when he did, the shrapnel would pierce them all.

The mission had gone south quickly, even for them. Oliver had been trying to take out a black market arms deal in the Glades with Sara, who was a constant at his side these days, but they all underestimated who they were dealing with. The men were armed with missile launchers, military grade – which suggested they were more than your average smugglers. What should have been a simple mission of breaking up the operation before carting the people involved off to Iron Heights prison turned sour when they blew up a skyscraper.

It was only a small one, but apparently it was Felicity's fault for not redirecting the projectile.

This was a big defeat for them because they suspected Slade was funding the operation. Anything Slade was even rumoured to be involved in, Oliver wanted shut down or burned to the ground immediately, a crazed look in his eyes whenever he heard his enemies name. It was a poison within him: it was starting to infect the team.

Now he was yelling at Felicity about the night's failure back at the Foundry, and if she were a more violent person, she would have hit him by now for the things he'd said. As it was, she was done with biting her tongue.

"I can't believe you let this happen!" Oliver shouted, pacing in front of her. He wasn't angry at her, not really. The world in general had just treated him badly tonight, and although he blamed himself the most, the thought that there was something she could have done whispered harshly in the back of his mind. So he lashed out – it was what he was good at. "What came over you? You should have been able to stop this."

"I'm sorry, but literal rocket science isn't exactly my area of expertise," she snapped back, one hand on her hip and standing her ground before him, chin jutting upwards. "I tried hacking into the missiles to re-route them but it happened too fast. There was nothing I could do."

"Then work faster."

"You let them get off the shot in the first place," Felicity argued, her right hand jabbing in the air accusingly. She saw Oliver tense at the movement, becoming agitated as he stopped pacing to stand deliberately in front of her. He knew how she usually reacted when he invaded her personal space, but this time Felicity stood her ground. "So don't you dare put this all on me. I did my best."

"It wasn't enough."

"Maybe not," she said coldly, "but neither was yours."

Oliver froze at that. His glare was aimed at her now, making even Felicity look down to play with the fabric of her sleeves, both of them tense and annoyed – and about to go too far.

"Excuse me?" he demanded, voice taking on an edge.

"You heard me."

"Guys, both of you need to cool down," Diggle suggested, jumping in. He had been waiting to drive Oliver to the hospital when they'd started getting into it . . . again. It seemed to be happening more often recently. Ever since both Slade and Sara had returned to Starling, his friend had started to change. Oliver was getting more and more tightly wound. And unfortunately for Felicity, he usually found a way to take it out on her. Diggle walked between them to hold his hands up peacefully, putting a hand on the girl's back, "Felicity, why don't you head home for the night."

"Thank you, John."

"No!" Oliver interrupted, "she can stay here until we get another lead on the arms dealers."

"Oliver, don't be ridiculous. We're all fried. It will wait till tomorrow, trust me," Diggle commanded in his most serious tone, crossing his arms and standing in front of Felicity protectively now, eyes on Oliver. "She's going home."

"People were hurt tonight, Diggle. Sara's in hospital – we need to catch these guys quick."

Felicity spoke up, "then shouldn't you be at the hospital with her?"

"The mission comes first."

"Do you even have a heart, Oliver Queen? After everything Sara's done for you -"

"Why do you care about Sara?" Oliver snapped, as Diggle threw his hands in the air and began to pace, seeing neither of them were going to back down. Oliver moved to stand in front of Felicity once more. "Ever since she came here, you've been too busy acting jealous to pay attention to anything else!"

"Jealous?"

"Of me and her."

Felicity laughed, but there was no humour in it. "Someone's feeling a little bit self-important tonight. The world doesn't revolve around you, Oliver, no matter how much you act like it. I'm not jealous of Sara – and even if I was because let's face it, she's awesome and can kick ass – I would _never_ let someone get hurt on purpose."

"Don't act concerned all of a sudden-"

"She's my _friend_!" Felicity shouted, finally raising her voice and taking an angry step in his direction. "I have her back, and I know she has mine – I'd never want her to get hurt!"

"But you let it happen tonight."

"Playing the blame game now isn't going to change anything. Don't hold me to fault for _your_ failures – I know I did everything I could. Sara knows that too," Felicity yelled, her eyes glistening now. Her face crumpled a little as her anger subsided to sadness – she couldn't take this anymore. For a moment, Oliver saw her reach the end of her tether, realizing too late he had made a mistake. "She is my friend, no matter what. I thought you were too but I guess I was wrong. Friends don't treat friends like this."

She turned before she could start crying, although her lip trembled through the last part, she refused to let it show just how much his words cut her up. Felicity headed for the door, desperate to escape before things went too far, not wanting to make things worse than they were. But Oliver's attitude cut deep, He might as well have punched her - it would have hurt less.

"I was wrong too," Oliver called after her. Felicity turned, thinking he might apologise and go back to being her Oliver again, who laughed when she babbled and wasn't cruel, but Slade was still in the city, and he had changed. His tone was cold. "I thought you were the best. Or that you could at least handle this. But tonight_ you_ failed the city. I brought you onto this team because I needed you – the city needed you. If you're no longer able to perform your duties . . . I don't."

"Oliver, stand down!" Diggle shouted, pushing Oliver away from Felicity, breaking the two's eye contact. The girl recoiled as if she had been slapped. A few tears slipped down her face as she froze, unable to look away as Oliver was swept aside by Diggle, who was in her vision, hand on her shoulders and speaking, although she couldn't hear a word he said.

"Is that all I ever was to you? Someone to be used until I wasn't necessary anymore?" she asked tearfully, voice cracking as she strode past him until she could see Oliver again. Even he looked appalled at herself, blinking hard and opening his mouth like he was trying to say something, but she cut him off before any words could come out. "I thought . . . I thought I was your friend. I thought we were . . ."

Felicity trailed off as she began to shake, a few more tears falling down her face. She wasn't going to do this anymore. Wiping the wetness away with the back of her hands before straightening, back straight and eyes determinedly on his, Felicity spoke again. "I quit."

She turned and walked away before anyone would say another word.

"Felicity . . ." Oliver breathed as she left, watching her ponytail swish from side to side before she disappeared up the stairs to the club. A blast of music cut through the Foundry as she opened the door, but was cut off abruptly when it slammed behind her, jerking him to his senses.

As Oliver moved to follow her, a hand caught him by the shoulder. He turned to see Diggle shake his head with a frown. "Leave her. You've done enough, Oliver."

The disappointment in his friend's tone was scary. Oliver slowly nodded, moving out of the grip until he walked to the computer, bone tired, and slumped against the desk. "I-I didn't mean to-"

"Then what exactly did you think you'd achieve with that? Scaring her half to death?"

"No! Of course not. I don't want to hurt Felicity, or for anyone else to hurt her, and I was stupid, okay? She makes me scared because I couldn't stand it if anything happened to her. I don't know why I acted like an ass tonight."

Diggle finally understood, even if Oliver didn't. Quietly he turned to face his friend. "You're pushing her away because you're worried about her now Slade Wilson is back."

"No, I'm . . . well, maybe . . ." Oliver protested feebly, shrugging. "Slade is my worst nightmare. He will hurt anyone and anything to get to me – and destroying her to do it? He'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Oliver, we're always in danger. It comes with the territory;" Diggle said frankly, "both me and Felicity knew what we were signing up for."

"But if she dies at his hand – that's on me. And I couldn't live with myself," Oliver revealed, finally looking up with determination in his eyes. He hadn't realised he was doing it, but now he did, pushing Felicity away seemed like the perfect way to protect her. If she quit – at least she'd be safe from Slade. "It's better she lives hating me than dies because we were . . ." he trailed off with a cough, standing again. "I'd better get to the hospital. She was right – someone should be there when Sara wakes up."

"Oliver," Diggle's voice called after him as Oliver's feet hit the steps, and he stopped to listen. "It should be her choice whether or not she does this. If Felicity found out you'd deliberately pushed her away to keep her safe she'd never forgive you. If you do this, if you let her walk away . . . we could lose her forever, man. _You_ could lose her."

Oliver sighed heavily, pausing for just a second longer. "If Slade gets to her, I'll lose her anyway. At least this way she has a chance to live her life happily."

"She won't be happy. She'll blame herself or spend every day thinking about us and this place – you don't just move on from something this big."

"She'll survive," Oliver said, still not turning around as he began to ascend the stairs once more. This time, he did not turn back. His heart was beating in his chest, a kick to his ribs every time, the stab of guilt he should be used to by now.

He didn't want to do this. The thought of Felicity leaving, of her hating him – it killed him. But it was better than seeing her dead, or standing over her grave or –

Oliver forced the thoughts away. He would not let that happen.

Even if the cost was losing his girl.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or it's characters. Re-vamping chapters 1-5 and resuming this story (finally)!**


	2. Fight fire with gasoline

**'Fight fire with gasoline'**

The very next day, Felicity walked into Oliver's office. Unlike any other day, her entrance was not accompanied by a smile or met by one, in fact neither met the others eyes as she crossed the room. Felicity kept her head resolutely up whereas Oliver looked down, pretending to read the document in his hands. It might as well be written in gibberish for all he was paying attention.

Really, he was watching Felicity from the corner of his eye. She seemed to be stalling as she walked in, the usual skip in her step replaced by a weary tread, feet hardly lifting off the ground. Her eyes were tired as if she hadn't slept, the dark eyeliner mostly hiding that they were red-rimmed, but Oliver noticed anyway. Felicity had been crying. Even her coat was black, a long one reaching down to her knees and zipped up fully – she obviously had no intention of sticking around. All of her colour was gone.

When she got to his desk, Felicity slowly pulled her Queen's Consolidated ID badge from her pocket and put it on his desk, as well as a folded letter – her official resignation. Oliver glanced up at this, but said nothing, looking down again quickly.

She expected more than that. After an awkward moment of both of them just waiting, her standing before his desk with an indignant look on her face, she broke the silence.

"Aren't you going to say _anything_?" Felicity asked as she shook her head slightly, her voice shaking only a little, brow creased. Oliver looked up, careful to make his face still and reserved. She appeared honestly heartbroken. "After all we've been through – this is all I get? Not even a goodbye?"

"_You_ quit, Felicity. "

"Yeah, I quit. But you pushed me to quitting," she told him, edge of anger in her tone. But mostly she was just sad. Putting two fingers to her temple and bowing her head, she calmed visibly, "it's okay, it's fine. I'm sorry."

Sinking visibly, she shoved her hands deep into her pockets and swung a few times on the spot, not able to leave it like this. Felicity watched him carefully, "I want to thank you, Oliver. You've saved my life a lot of times."

Oliver was surprised at the words. She had seemed to angry only moments before – but now she looked . . . defeated. Or maybe that was the wrong word – accepting fitted her better. Felicity was accepting the end of this. Of their team, their friendship: of them.

He nodded in return, not smiling because he knew he had to stay strong for this to work. She would be safer away from him. This was right – but maybe they didn't have to leave hating one another. "You've saved mine, too."

Felicity smiled then, the edges of her mouth twitching up, but her eyes remained shattered. It hurt him too see that look on her face and know he was the cause, all of her brightness dimmed, fading.

"We had some good times, the three of us – I won't forget that. Really. Those times meant a lot to me, I'm just sorry it had to end this way. But I just can't do it anymore – everything's changed . . . you've changed," she bit back tears, pushing forwards in a rush so she could get through this without actually crying. Felicity bit the inside of her lip. "I just can't stay anymore when I'm under constant fire. I tried so hard to do something good, Oliver, and I did. For a while, I did. But if I stay . . . I can't take it anymore: the danger and the lying and the _animosity_ in the Foundry sometimes. It's not getting better, either. I have to do what's right for me – and get out before I break and I am _so close_-"

The blonde trailed off in a shaky breath, one hand going to the desk and leaning on it, hardly able to stand. She was trembling. Oliver almost leapt to his feet to comfort her and apologise for everything, mouth falling open as soon as she looked down, face set into shock. He had no idea this was affecting her so badly, the guilt wrapping around his chest and constricting tightly, the air forced from his lungs in the huffs of breath which escaped him silently. Oliver couldn't believe things had got this far.

Maybe she was better off away from him for more reasons than Slade. Maybe she was better off just without _him_.

When Felicity looked back up, her eyes were bright with tears but sharp; she stood straight again. "Do me one last favour, okay?" she asked, quirk returning to her voice with a shake, "Don't do the same to Diggle and Sara. Don't . . . don't push them away and leave yourself alone. You need people, Oliver. People to pull you out of this darkness and back into yourself – and I don't believe you're a bad person, not ever. I know you're just stressed and mad. But don't do it to them."

She shook her head as she turned to walk away, leaving a lot quicker than she had walked in like she couldn't wait to get out of there. He didn't blame her. The way she had said those things – it was as if she believed Diggle and Sara somehow deserved _better_ than she did – even though she was the best of them all. Oliver frowned as he watched her back retreat. She didn't believe that, did she?

Then he realised she probably did – because _he _made her feel that way.

Felicity was wrong, Oliver concluded: he _was_ a bad person. He had single handedly pushed away the best thing in his life, the only person who could make him laugh through the pain and carry the entire team to the light. But that was why he needed to do this in the first place.

Because she deserved the world. Felicity Smoak deserved to live a long, happy life and not die at the hands of Slade Wilson. Oliver knew he had to do this no matter how much he was dying inside. No matter if it meant him losing his hope. Or his heart.

So as she walked away, he held his tongue – just barely. He wanted to call her back desperately, but he didn't. He wanted to hold on to her and never let her leave, but he couldn't.

He wanted to not love her, so this was all easier and he could sleep at night. That didn't look likely to happen, either.

At the door, she stopped, hand on the handle. "Bye, Oliver. I wish you well with everything – the company and . . . the _other_ stuff, I really do. I know you'll be able to be happy again one day."

After she was really gone, golden hair disappearing around the corner as unseen to him, tears traced their way down her face, he leaned back in his chair and tried to breathe calmly. Oliver felt his heart break just a little as he said two words he wished he never had to.

"Goodbye, Felicity."

* * *

Four days after she quit her job at Queen's Consolidated, Felicity bumped into an old friend quite literally. With her car.

Really, she should have been paying more attention to her surroundings, but for the last few days she had felt like her head was wrapped up in cotton wool. Everything was fuzzy. For years now, she had certain clarity about her life – she lived in Starling, worked at QC, she lived and breathed that city and spent her nights trying to save it. The only three places she went to were home, work and the Foundry. She worked hard, she loved her friends and her team, and aside from the odd life-endangerment and terrifying incident, she was happy.

All of that was gone now. She was kind of lost without it.

The last few days had been spent catching up on TV she had missed and trying to work out what to do next. Honestly, Felicity still had no idea. All she had was her skills with computers, but since she had spent the last few months as an 'executive assistant' most of her office suspected was sleeping with her boss for the job, Felicity doubted it would be easy for her to get another job in the city. Rumours were vicious here.

And aside from her day life . . . she missed her night life, too. Oliver had been insufferable for months, and she couldn't take him anymore – but she missed the feeling that she was doing something meaningful with her life. By taking out criminals, she had been literally saving lives, making a difference. She missed that feeling. The thrill. The hope, even, that things could get better.

Now she was spending her night alone and oblivious, like any other person in the city.

These thoughts were her main distraction as she drove out to one of the few job interviews she had been offered, so she didn't see the other car pulling out until it was too late. The brakes were slammed a fraction of a second too late, her car skidding and leaving thick, dark tire marks on the surface of the road before abruptly coming to a stop on impact.

The front of her car crunched into the trunk of the reversing one, flinging her forward in her seat, but not too harshly – she had managed to slow her car a little, and the other car was hardly moving at all. After the collision her car rocked backwards a little until it stopped. Felicity's hands locked on the steering wheel in shock, until came to her senses, quickly unbuckling her belt and attempting to free herself from the car.

It wasn't too bad. The front was slightly smashed in and the windscreen had cracked scattering glass through the car, but it could have been a lot worse. The car could be fixed in a few days.

"Oh, crap," she breathed worriedly. This time she had really messed up.

"Are you alright?" a concerned voice called out, making Felicity jump in her seat, a few shards of glass sticking into her leg as a result. She winced at that before looking up, seeing the driver of the other car running towards her. He stopped at her window, helping to hold the door open as she stepped out, legs shaking as they hit the pavement and thankful of the hand on her arm to steady her.

When she looked up to thank him, her eyes met incredibly familiar green ones under a mop of dark brown hair. She knew him. Apparently, he thought the same.

"Felicity?" the man said, face freezing before breaking out into a grin, despite the fact she had just hit him with her car. His worried tone took a lighter edge, "Felicity Smoak? Or do my eyes deceive me?"

"Ted," she answered in a laugh, her old friend instinctively moving to hug her. Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and smiled genuinely for the first time in days. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

Ted Kord leant out of the hug, his grin infectious. "And you're still trouble."

"I'm so sorry!" Felicity exclaimed, remembering the whole issue of the car crash and running a distressed though her hair, looking at the damages to both of their vehicles. "It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going-"

"Hey, it's no problem. What are friend for if it's not to forgive the odd collision?"

"How are you laughing?" Felicity demanded, but found a smile creeping onto her face as well as he just kept grinning at her. She hit him playfully on the arm. The last few years, her life had been so consistent she had forgotten what it was like before she came here; before the team. Now she realized how much she had missed her old friends. Only Ted could come back and make her laugh like that within minutes.

"I'm not hurt – are you?" he asked, and she shook her head. She'd had a lot worse than a few scrapes and bruises over the past months. Ted's gaze scrutinised her for a moment before he too came to the conclusion that she would be fine and nodded to himself, going on, "And cars can be fixed. If you hadn't have hit me, I would never have seen you. It seems like a good compromise to me."

"But I am screwed with my insurance," Felicity grumbled under her breath, making him laugh again, "bad time for me to have quit my job, huh?"

"You quit?" Ted perked up at the prospect, "you were working for Queen Consolidated, right? I read something about you being Oliver's Queen's PA?"

He raised an eyebrow, silently asking what that was all about. Felicity rolled her eyes in response, "that's executive assistant."

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry. But you're not anymore?"

"As of four days ago, no."

"Huh," Ted huffed out a breath, seeming to consider something for a moment, eyes unfocused, before he turned to her with another dazzling grin. "How'd you like to come and work for me at Kord Industries? Our R&amp;D department always has a place for you."

"I- what?"

At her shocked face, he offered her his arm, bent at the elbow for her to take. "Come on, for friends I have a rather relaxed job interviewing technique – it's called getting coffee and catching up. What do you say?"

"That we can't just leave our cars like this," Felicity replied.

Ted pouted, "Then let's get them parked! Repairs can wait – this can't."

"Ted, wait!" Felicity called, but he had already run over to his car like a big kid and jumped in, pulling it into the space he had been trying to leave when she hit him. Exasperated, Felicity let of another half-laugh as she did the same, parking a few spaces down easily, although their wrecked cars were causing a lot of attention now.

Ted Kord really hadn't changed at all. I was nice that someone in her life hadn't.

They had met back in college, bumping into one another despite being on different courses, introduced by friends at various parties and all hanging out because they were deemed the 'nerds' on the computers and maths programs. Back then, he had been the smartest person she had ever met – and simultaneously the biggest dork on campus.

Ted could have been brilliant if he put his mind to better things, but in those days 90% of his thoughts were either dumb jokes or whatever prank they would pull next.

Because oh yes, their group of friends pulled the best pranks on campus. Brains beat brawn in the war of mischief. There was no way a group of engineering students, computer techies and maths whizzes would fail to construct the most elaborate, well-thought out pranks ever. Everyone knew it had to be them, but then again, they were never dumb enough to get caught either. The five blown-up dumpsters, multiple computer viruses and the famous Halloween incident was proof of their success.

It had been one of the happiest times of Felicity's life. She had been revelling in the freedom of being away from her mother and taking control of her life, actually learning something she loved and laughing with real friends – she'd forgotten how much she missed it.

Of course, she had been happy in Starling, too. At the start it was perfect. But now . . .

For a second as she pulled the handbrake to park, she remembered why she had been distracted in the first place, her guts hollowing out with a sickening feeling that something was missing. Oliver. Fortunately, all it took was Ted appearing at her window, knocking it and telling her to hurry up to fill it with laughter again.

It was time to catch up with an old, good friend.

* * *

Oliver was in the Foundry when an alert beeped on the computer. Halfway up the salmon ladder, he looked down to Sara, who was in the seat which had once been Felicity's. "What's that?"

"I don't know," she replied frostily, not even glancing up in his direction. Oliver sighed. Sara was out of hospital, but was mighty pissed when she heard Felicity had quit – even more so when Diggle told her the truth about what Oliver had done. She barely spoke to him these days. "It says something about a collision."

"Who's car?" Oliver asked worriedly. A year ago, he had installed monitors in all of their cars, so the others would be alerted if one of them was involved in an accident.

"Felicity's. What does it mean?"

"Oh God," Oliver breathed, dropping to the floor and ignoring the jolt of pain in his ankle. Grabbing his hood, he jerked it roughly over his head and grabbed his bow, heading for the door in seconds. Sara was calling after him, but he drowned everything out but the facts – Felicity's car had crashed. She could be hurt. He had to get there fast.

Running across the rooftops, Oliver never faltered. Even if he landed heavily or stumbled, he fought to remain upright and keep moving, heart rate increasing with more than exercise – it was fear. With the breakneck pace he was pushing himself at, he was at the scene in eight minutes.

What he saw surprised him.

Felicity's car was damaged at the front. The hood was cracked and caved in, windshield shattered. There was another car with the trunk broken and hanging off, but both cars were calmly parked and abandoned – then he saw Felicity walking calmly away.

The relief hit him like a tsunami, forget wave. He moved quietly across a few rooftops to get a good look at her: the ponytail she had wore her hair up in was messy now strands hanging lose around her face and there were a few cuts on her hands and one above her eyebrow, but she didn't appear injured in any other way.

The most confusing thing was her smile.

For the last few days, Oliver had kept tabs on her, still worried she was a target despite his new detachment from her. She had spent a lot of time crying, then just staring at walls like she didn't know what to do, going through the motions of living without any emotion. He hadn't seen her smile in days: but she was now. Red lips moved freely as she talked animatedly, moving her hands excitedly and actually laughing, peals of joyful sound reaching his ears all the way up on the rooftop.

Frowning, Oliver looked at who she was talking to. The man walking beside her was listening with a small smirk on his face, watching Felicity with humour and genuine interest to what she was saying, hands carelessly thrown in his expensive suit pockets and looking unharmed. He had a shock of dark hair, and where he wasn't typically attractive, with a more normal, nerdy look bout him, the man's strong, athletic figure could be seen even through the stylish cut of his suit, and his smile was bright and friendly.

Oliver told himself he wasn't jealous, but his stomach roared in protest at that, churning and wanting to go and either interrogate that man about who the hell he was or punch him in the face. It was completely irrational and he had no right to feel that way, but liver's hands tightened on the bow until his knuckles were white anyway, his lips tightening in anger.

The two just seemed so comfortable with one another. Even as he watched, Felicity laughed at something the man said and put a hand on his arm, the touch innocent but making Oliver want to throw up. They looked at each other as they laughed, ducking into a warm coffee shop a moment later.

When they disappeared, Oliver knew he should leave. Felicity was obviously more than fine - in fact she was better than he'd seen her in ages, and there seemed to be nothing suspicious about the crash. He shouldn't interfere. But the man appeared familiar somehow, like he had seen his face before . . .

It took a few minutes for it to click: Kord Industries. They had investigated it after the incident with Clock King, finding out it was recently put under the management of the previous owner's son, a young genius who wanted to rebuild the company. Oliver had met him briefly at some charity events, but was usually too distracted for anyone to make a real impression. He vaguely remembered that the man had piercing green eyes which seemed to scan the room and always seemed to be calculating something or another.

It was almost the same way he was. Of course, Oliver was usually scanning a room for threats; he doubted Kord was. More likely looking to see whether people were worth his time.

"Sara?" Oliver asked over the comms, determined to at least check this guy out, for purely protective reasons, "I need you to get me everything we have on Theodore Kord."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you're enjoying this story! Now we get to the crossover: Ted is here. And Oh God do I miss him in DC comics. Please follow/review!**


	3. Hooked on a feeling

**'Hooked on a feeling'**

The coffee was bitter, so Felicity lumped about eight sugars into hers, the tiny packets littering the table between her and Ted as she stirred the liquid in the paper cup. It warmed her hands as she held it between them carefully, looking up to see her companion sniggering in her direction.

"What?"

"I can't believe you still do that to your coffee," Ted laughed, taking his own black. It was only then she noticed he looked tired, small rings around his eyes hardly noticeable, but definitely there. Despite this, he hadn't stopped smiling yet, "you always had a sweet tooth."

"Shut up," she laughed.

"And still terrible at arguing," He pointed out, making a small smile appear on her face as she tilted her head in agreement, "that's 'cause being mean to people isn't in your nature." Ted stopped joking to look at her for a minute, leaning forward with his elbows on the table to peer at her curiously. He saw right through her; he always could. "But you're angry about something, I can tell. Something's bothering you. So spill it."

She shook her head, dropping her gaze back to the dark liquid in her cup, "Nothing's wrong. I'm peachy."

"_Feli_-city," he sang playfully, twisting about in his seat until she had to look up and begrudgingly laugh. Once she met his gaze, she was trapped. Ted spoke seriously, "Tell your old friend what's wrong so I can kick the ass of whoever's to blame."

"I wouldn't advise that," Felicity countered, "I appreciate the offer, but that's a fight you wouldn't win. Oliver is pretty strong."

"Oh, so this is about that asshole? And I'm guessing why you quit?"

At his derisive tone, she nodded, feeling embarrassed. "It really doesn't matter . . . I don't know why I let it get to me. But you don't want to hear about it. We've got happier things to catch up on."

"Whatever it is, it's eating you up inside. I don't mind, genuinely – tell me what happened."

"Oliver is a jerk who made me feel like crap but still I feel guilty for walking away – end of story," Felicity shrugged quickly, spilling out the words in a single breath, obviously unhappy, "I'm just mad at myself for thinking he was my friend. Who was I kidding? He's Oliver Queen and I'm-"

"Felicity freaking Smoak," Ted interrupted her firmly, leaning over to take her hand and squeeze it, his smile more forced with anger this time. Frankly, he hoped he ran into Mr. Queen while he was in Starling – so he could shove his fist down the jerk's throat. _Nobody_ made his best friend feel that way. Nobody.

She laughed humourlessly, "I'm just Felicity, Ted. I'm no one."

"Please," he shouted aloud at that, letting her go to lean back in his seat and just look at her. He could see how she had changed now. Her confidence was shot, but she was still babbling, still smart – still his pal. "You're Felicity Smoak! I remember how you used to be – you we're gonna change the world."

"I'd be happy to just live in it at this point."

"Nah, you're still that girl who wanted to make a difference."

He said it so honestly, without a hint of doubt in his tone that she froze. It was so unlike Oliver's criticism that she didn't know quite how to respond. It was odd for someone to believe in her.

"Says the genius," she eventually replied, swiftly changing the subject. Today she wanted to talk about the good things and forget the bad. "How's running a successful national company?"

"It's ace, Felicity. And I realize the word 'ace' hasn't been uttered since 1963 in hindsight."

"Dork."

"Nerd."

They glared at each other briefly before Felicity cracked, laughing, "So what have you been up to? Despite taking over your fathers company – congrats on that, by the way. I was so proud when I read about it in the news."

"Thank you," he rubbed a hand through his hair, "it was . . . hard. When the truth came out about my Uncle, well . . . people didn't take it so well."

Felicity nodded encouragingly, hoping he would continue. She'd read about that on the news, too. Long story short: Ted's Evil Uncle was involved in some not-so-nice things, and some other masked vigilante had taken care of him, leaving Ted his father's company. At the time, Oliver had wanted to investigate the other mask, but the only reports on him revealed nothing aside from the fact he wore blue.

Ted sighed, "It was an adjustment, I'll admit. But it's pretty relaxed over at KI, I can be hands off if I like as long as I don't get into trouble."

"Ouch. I have no idea how you manage that."

"Hey! I am much more mature now . . . for the most part."

At his sheepish look, Felicity laughed easily. "You wouldn't be Ted if you were serious," she pointed out, echoing him, "it's not in your nature."

"It would be useful to have someone with a much more level head - aka yourself - on board though. You could hold me back if I try and do something too ridiculous."

She almost choked on her coffee, "What are you saying?"

"Come and work for me."

"I-I appreciate the offer, but . . . I'm a PA. A bad one. If Kord Industries in this town hires me, people will keep gossiping – it won't be good for your business."

"I wasn't suggesting hiring you here," Ted said simply, "come to Chicago. It's our main HQ, where most of our work gets done. I want you as my right-hand woman."

"But . . ."

"You're still the person I knew, the one who could change the world," Ted said confidently, his eyes scrunched up concentration, "And you will – at Kord Industries. Our R&amp;D department is second only to WayneTech at this point, can I proudly point out, so who gives two craps about Queen Industries? You can do better than being a PA! I remember how good you are with computers."

"I'd love to work for you, I really, really, really would - but I can't make a snap decision about this." She winced apologetically, "I mean, Kord Industries here in Starling was robbed a few months ago for some dangerous things: can you guarantee you're not still making Skeleton Keys?"

He frowned then, his jaw locking angrily as his eyes became momentarily unfocused as he sipped his coffee, not even reacting to the boiling, bitter taste. "That was never supposed to happen. We manufactured that Skeleton Key for government use. Nobody was supposed to know about it. I still can't believe that it was stolen – or that the vigilante never returned it. Our company has received reports of that green fella of yours using it."

"-He's not _my_ green-" Felicity interrupted without thinking, not realizing Ted was speaking generally as she panicked, believing he had discovered her involvement with the Arrow. She trailed off and blushed furiously.

"I didn't mean yours, I meant the city's," Ted still looked confused, cocking his head to one side. He paused for a moment, "I heard he saved you once. The vigilante. What was it like?"

"Terrifying," she replied mechanically, "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry," he apologised immediately, internally cursing himself – it was crass and dumb to ask, and well . . . him. He was trying to be better, though. He reached over to brush a hand over her shoulder, "I didn't mean to-"

But she was smiling, "its fine, Ted. It's nice to know someone around here is capable of apologising – or feelings in general. I'm beginning to think the apathy of Starling City is rubbing off on me."

"Then leave it."

"Come on. Just drop it for now, okay? I'll think about it. But leaving . . . it's a bigger decision than you know."

He held his hands up, downing the last dregs of his coffee with an amused sort of smile on his lips. "Sorry, boss. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," she shook her head. "In fact, it's nice to have someone believe in me. I haven't been this happy in weeks; it was good to see you again."

"Nobody should make you sad, Felicity. I'm seriously considering kicking Oliver Queen's ass right now."

"Don't pick fights you can't win, Teddy. I thought you'd have learnt that lesson by now."

He snorted loudly. "Not a chance."

Of course, Felicity didn't know why he smirked so much at that comment, something laughing behind his dark eyes, but shrugged it off. It had been a long time since they had saw one another – obviously he would have changed a bit since then. She took another careful sip of her coffee, watching him just as intently as he had been her a few minutes ago.

"Ted?"

"Hmmnn?"

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Oh," his shoulders slumped, "business meetings. The branch of Kord Industries here in Starling might be shutting down; business has suffered since the robbery. I have ten managers telling me it's the right thing to do but, uh, I'm trying to keep it open."

"Why?" she asked, confused.

"To try and save a lot of people's jobs," Ted lied smoothly. He was getting too good at it, which bothered him a lot. Before, he had been honest to a fault – his life had changed a lot since Pago Island. But Felicity couldn't know about that, so he plastered on a smile, "it gives me an excuse to kick about the city for a few days, though. Do you have any plans this week?"

"Um, job hunting I guess." She said, adding sarcastically, "Maybe sitting in my Pj's watching documentaries on Animal Planet. Being unemployed is_ fun_."

"Well, cancel those plans – you're hanging out with me for the next four days now."

"Yay," Felicity deadpanned, receiving a slap on the arm in return and laughing into her drink. "What are we doing then?"

"It's _your _city. What's good?"

"Big Belly Burger," she replied without thinking. Memories of better times spent there with her boys, laughing and feeling part of something greater flashed across her mind as she flinched despite herself.

"Sounds great," Ted agreed, not noticing her discomfort as he got to his feet, shrugging the shoulders of his jacket as he stood waiting for her to do the same before moving. He held the door open for her, stepping out onto the pavement with a smile, handing her a slip of paper. "There's my new number, text me your address and I'll pick you up there at eight. Unless you don't call, in which case I'll be sitting alone in my hotel room, desperately sad."

Knowing he was teasing, she grinned back in kind, "well I'll just have to see, Mr. Kord. I do have a tub of mint choc chip waiting for me at home . . ."

"Ouch," Ted remarked, remembering the ice cream was her go-to comfort food, "as your friend, it's my duty to save you from that. I'll drive around the entire city knocking on doors if you don't call me now."

"That I'd like to see."

"Real funny, nerd. I'm late to a meeting, so I've got to run – see you at eight!"

She raised a hand as he ran off towards his car, smiling to herself. Felicity thought her luck must be on the rise again to have bumped into Ted again, not having realized how much she missed him. Straight away, she text him her address on the number he had given her, fondly saving his name as 'Dork'.

What she didn't know was that there was another billionaire on a rooftop across the street, who had watched the entire exchange with his stomach tied in knots.

* * *

**A/N: sorry for the mahoosive chunk of text this time. So that's the set up for this story, but let me just say: this is not a Ted/Felicity fic. Who needs romance when you can have the best superheroes by night, scientists by day super cute nerdy buddies ever? answer: no one. **


	4. Masks

**'Masks'**

One thing Ted did not expect to see when he walked into his meeting was Oliver Queen.

Yet there the other billionaire was, reclining in a chair at the head of the table, one leg crossed carelessly over the other, smug smile on his face. That shit-eating grin widened as he walked in, and Ted hated the man infinitely times more in that second.

"Ted!" Oliver greeted like they were old friends, jumping to his feet and approaching him quickly. He stopped just in front of him and extended a hand.

For a good few seconds, Ted just studied the hand in front of him, wondering if this was a dream. If it was maybe he could punch the smug bastard, just a little bit. But looking up he saw the intelligence in Oliver Queen's eyes, cold and calm despite his friendly demeanour; Ted knew it couldn't be fake. Even he couldn't dream up a gaze like _that_.

"It's Mr. Kord," he replied slowly, as Oliver put on a frown, hand dropping to his side. "What are you doing here? This is _my_ building."

"I heard you were in town and wanted to propose a business merger to save the branch of your company here in Starling," Oliver replied, keeping his tone even. "I'm here to help, _Mr. Kord_."

Ted couldn't keep the bite out of his voice, although he didn't try too hard in all honesty. Who gave a damn what Oliver Queen thought of his rudeness, that asshole had hurt Felicity badly. "Well, Mr. Queen, I think you'd better take your 'help' elsewhere."

"Ted," his own assistant, Angie, pulled him away by the arm, "a word, please."

Although it felt like losing, the newcomer to town forced composure over himself. He couldn't lose it here and start yelling – Ted had gotten good at compartmentalising his life: there was home, there was work, and then there was his night time persona. If he wanted his secret identity to remain that, he had to keep his work life completely focused on the company and not let his fake facade slip.

'Ted Kord' was an eccentric billionaire, but he was kind to his employee's, even if he could be dumb and careless. But he did not shout at meetings and he certainly did not speak rudely to people he saw at social events, pretending to get along with like Oliver Queen, or risk people's jobs because of his personal opinions.

Business manager Ted Kord wouldn't do any of that, but best buddy Teddy would. He'd definitely do it for Felicity.

Ted wanted nothing more than to merge all three lives for a second and fracture Oliver Queen's throat so that the jerk never had the opportunity to say an unkind word to anyone ever again.

But that would be very, very problematic.

So he forced out a smile and left with Angie, not daring to speak up in anger in front of the directors present or Mr. Queen. Outside, he could say what he wanted - get the advisor to turn down Oliver in a polite way. There was no way in hell they were ever going to work together.

"What, Angie?" he demanded as soon as they were outside, turning to the girl in irritation. It made her step back a little: Mr. Kord wasn't like this. He was the goofball who just so happened to manage the company – aggressiveness wasn't in his nature. He sighed, feeling guiltier by the second – he wasn't like Oliver Queen, he treated his assistant like a friend. "I'm really sorry, Angie. I just don't want to work with that _asshole_. We can work this out without Queen Consolidated."

"Actually, we can't. The K.I building here will shut down unless we can get another company to pick up the slack. Mr. Kord, think about it."

"What about WayneTech? I'd rather work with Bruce Wayne than him, and Wayne's a dumb playboy! Hell, I'd even make a deal with LexCorp at this point."

"But this city _belongs_ to the Queen's. Their family has too much influence here to just ignore them, even with everything that's gone on recently, they have power. We need him, I wish there was another way – but if you care about keeping your company here in Starling open, we need to make that deal."

Ted sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration, " . . . is there no other option? What were we going to discuss in this meeting before he crashed it?"

"Before Mr. Queen's offer, we had _no_ other options. The meeting was to discuss saving as many jobs as we could by transferring employees – but we could save _all_ of them with this." Angie peered at her boss in confusion, not used to seeing Ted so frazzled. "Why are you so reluctant to work with Mr. Queen anyway? I don't mean to pry, but it's unlike you to dislike someone like this."

Ted peeked through the fingers covering his eyes, "How much of a selfish prick would I sound like if I told you it was for personal reasons?"

"A little, Mr. Kord, but I've also learnt to trust your judgement. What is it about him that's got you all riled up?"

"I don't like how he treats his employees," he answered honestly, picturing Felicity's downtrodden face that afternoon. Ted _really_ hated to see her that way. Besides which, working with Oliver right now would definitely be betraying her, and it hurt him to even have to consider it. But he knew he'd need an explanation, so went on, "you know how it is at K.I – we're a team. I don't think of anyone as being my employee, they're my friends, but Mr. McAsshole-Queen doesn't share my philosophy. He treats his employees like crap until they quit; burns out good people. I don't think it's in our company's best interest to work with a man like that."

Angie studied him carefully for a second, biting her lip. It hurt to look at her, glasses perched on her nose like Felicity's always were. In every other way, they were unlike – Angie was just a kid, round-faced with dark hair. She was also very nervous, having none of Felicity's backbone, but she was also a good kid, like his friend had been when they first met.

"I agree, Mr. Kord, that he doesn't sound like the sort of person _I'd_ want as a boss. But the meeting is to negotiate – so make a better deal."

"What do you mean?"

"Take his money to bail out the branch, but limit his duties as much as possible. Chances are Mr. Queen will be too busy with his own company to have much to do with K.I here, apart from any contractual obligations, so make sure he has as few as possible. You don't have to like the guy, just tolerate him."

Ted looked up at her and smiled, bright grin she was used to returning. Quickly, he hugged her, a look of fierce determination creeping into his eyes. "Angie, you're a genius. There's no way I pay you enough – remind me to give you a raise."

"There's no need, Mr. Kord. I love my job. You're right – you _are_ good to us. You gave me a chance and I'm grateful."

"Kid, you're a superstar," he told her, "never forget it. And call me Ted."

"Shall we, sir?" she smiled back shyly, gesturing towards the meeting room, "You still have a company to run, after all."

"Yes," he agreed, "let's go see how much money we can sucker out of Oliver jerk-face Queen."

"That's the spirit."

* * *

At the end of the meeting, Ted's stomach was twisted in knots. They had agreed for a merger with Queen Industries here in Starling, giving Oliver partial authority over the branch there. He could make minor business decisions and all of the staff of the building would report to him, the new 'regional manager' of the company. It had physically caused Ted pain to give him that title.

Putting his phone on his lap under the table, he text Felicity, ignoring the last few minutes of the meeting – it was just repeating all the things that had been said already. Irrelevant repetitions and politeness. Meetings were tedious.

_Are we still on for tonight? _

His phone buzzed a few minutes later with her reply.

**_Of course, if you are. How was the meeting?_**

_Long story. I'll need to talk to you about that later. _

He sent the reply, feeling dirty somehow, like he had been contaminated by association with Oliver Queen. Ted felt like dirt. He had cut a deal with the asshole that had treated her like she was nothing, a deal with the devil in his mind, and he felt pangs of guilt more intense than earthquakes. Felicity had every right never to talk to him again after this – he certainly wouldn't blame her for it.

**_Ted? What happened?_**

_I am a terrible human being._

**_. . . And not dramatic at all._**

He laughed at that, having to pass it off as a cough when people looked over.

_Felicity, you're a fantastic friend and you deserve better. Please don't hate me._

**_Never, you dork. You can tell me all about it at dinner, but don't beat yourself up over it in the meantime. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can work it out._**

_Yeah, I hope so. And you can give me an answer about working for me._

It took a few minutes for the reply to come through that time.

**_Maybe, maybe not. Give me until you leave for a final answer, and I promise to forgive whatever it is you've done this time._**

_This time?!_

**_You let me take the fall when we painted our lecturer's car purple in third year. I forgave, but never forgot, Theadore Kord._**

Ted really did laugh at that, getting dirty looks from the directors and advisors but not caring this time. He owned the damn company after all; he was entitled to text during the boring parts of meetings, surely. He didn't reply, but chuckled to himself until they called the meeting over, getting to his feet quickly and shifting on the balls of his feet, uncomfortable after sitting for hours.

He hoped his small forms of resentment were enough to convince Felicity that he was only working with Oliver for business.

All the way through the meeting, he sent Oliver scathing looks whenever the man hadn't been looking, even sticking his tongue out at him immaturely once. It wasn't very professional, but neither was he. A few times, Oliver seemed to notice the glares and looked confused, but didn't comment on it if he did see, instead looking away superiorly. Ted really hoped Felicity didn't hold this against him.

He didn't want to lose his best friend.

* * *

Oliver watched Ted on his phone at the end of the meeting. From the little smile on his face at every message, he could only imagine it was from someone important, and felt his stomach drop at the thought it was probably Felicity. But he kept his poker face, approaching the other man at the end of the meeting.

"Mr. Kord, I'm so glad we could come to an arrangement," Oliver said, false smile plastered over his face. He had taken a liberty with this merger, organising it in half an hour before coming, somehow convincing the directors of Queen's Consolidated it was a good idea without revealing his ulterior motive: to understand Ted Kord.

Ted seemed to have an interest in Felicity from the way they had laughed over coffee, and that was enough to warrant an investigation by the Arrow.

He wasn't sure how he felt about the other man yet. Ted Kord was an entrepreneur and the way he had turned his company around was impressive – he was a former athlete and a certified genius, who would be intimidating for most people, but Oliver was just suspicious. There was something more to Ted, he could feel it in his gut. He just wasn't sure what it was – not yet.

One thing he had learnt was that the other man didn't seem to like him very much, if the looks sent in his direction every five minutes was anything to go by. It wasn't subtle, but most of all it reminded him of the persona he sent out to the world – but what would Ted Kord need to hide behind a smile and feigned ignorance?

"Great," Ted replied, stressing the word out sarcastically as a false smile of his own appeared on his features. For a moment, however, his face twisted into almost comic irritation at being stopped from leaving. "I really have somewhere to be, Mr. Queen, so if you'll excuse me-"

Although the other man tried to leave, Oliver stepped in front of him, smile stiffening on his face. He didn't know why he did it, but he just couldn't let Ted go. He acted the playboy for a moment, "hot date, Ted?"

"Meeting an old friend for dinner, actually," Ted replied, his smile a lot colder now, "Felicity Smoak, do you remember her? She used to be one of your employee's, until you were such an asshole she quit."

"That's company business."

"She's a friend. A very good friend, in fact, and let me tell you something about my Felicity, Mr. Queen – she isn't a quitter. So you must be something terrible for her to have walked away."

Oliver felt like he had been punched. The weight of the words dropped onto him like a hundred pound dumbbell as soon as they had been spat out by the man in front of him. Ted's jaw jutted out in barely contained anger the entire time, although his face remained scarily happy, tone even light and a smile frozen in place as his icy words cut holes right through Oliver.

He was either a very good actor or very pissed off, but either way, his remarks were working. In all his years, Oliver had never felt guilt as strongly as he did then. But then the other man's choice of words flashed through his mind, and his mouth worked before he could catch up with it.

"_Your _Felicity?"

"Are you serious?" Ted scoffed, rolling his eyes, "don't tell me you're jealous." There was a pause in which Oliver did not speak, feeling his throat dry up. Ted didn't miss it. "You _are_, aren't you? Yes, _my_ Felicity. I use the term fondly, to describe my close friends. People I consider family, Mr. Queen – and I really don't appreciate the way you've been treating my family recently."

Oliver felt his blood boil, "is that a threat?"

"Nope. Just a warning to never be in my presence uninvited again . . . stay away from me and my friends."

"Again," Oliver bit out, carefully holding himself back, "that's between Felicity and me, not you."

"We'll see."

"I-"

"I really don't need you to talk, Mr. Queen. I have no interest in being your friend, or in fact anything _but_ your money, so anything you have to say just became redundant." Ted flashed one more smile, straightening his collar confidently with a smug look on his face, knowing he had won that argument. Turning his back, he added, "I'd wish you a good night, but honesty is important in business, right?"

He walked away without another word, leaving Oliver fuming, staring at his back and thankful he didn't have his bow on him right them. Oliver didn't think he'd have been able to hold back with a weapon in his hand; it was amazing he had kept his head at all. Anyone else and he probably would have punched them on principle.

But there was something about Ted Kord. Somehow, the other man got right under Oliver's skin, seeming to know the exact thing to say to piss him off. It was the wrong sort of anger, though. Instead of being adrenaline fuelled and wanting to rip someone's head off, Ted left him feeling frustrated at being faced with his own faults, not able to blame the other man which left only one solution – blaming himself. Mostly, above all of that, it was the way he said nothing but the truth.

Honesty was honesty, even if it was brutal.

All those things Ted had said, about Felicity and the way she had been treated and the genuine venom behind his words as he spoke: that was all true. It left Oliver with no choice but to face it, which was something he had avoided well for far too long. The truth finally being shoved in his face that way cut deep, hurting the billionaire in ways very few people had been able to, and Ted did it all with a vindictive smile.

Oliver didn't blame him. Ted was just angry on his friend's behalf, and he could never begrudge someone for protecting Felicity – it was the most important thing. The other man might have been cruel, but his anger was earned.

The Arrow was left feeling too many emotions to fully understand the exchange, so instead gritted his teeth as he left the Kord building, heading straight for the Foundry. He had work to do.

* * *

**A/N: Everyone be honest with themselves - you've all wanted Oliver to be told off like this at some point. And if you follow me on tumblr you'll know I've fancasted Zach Levi as Ted. I mean, he _is_ Ted Kord. Something I plan to put into action if I ever achieve my dream of writing/directing a blue beetle/booster gold team up movie. **


	5. Good friends, Bad habits

**'Good friends, bad habits'**

As she got ready to leave in her apartment, Felicity was starting to wish she hadn't suggested going to Big Belly Burger. Yes, they were the best damn burgers in the city and _of course_ she wanted to hang out with Ted while he was around – but there were just too many memories in that place.

There was a time all of those memories had been happy.

Thoughts of evenings there with Oliver and Diggle crossed her mind, from late-night runs before they went for a stake out to nights off where they sat and talked for hours, just the three of them. It was a place they could relax: there was no masks, no trouble, no responsibilities – just three people and some good food.

She had laughed there with her friends. Well, her friend. Diggle was always that, but if Oliver was telling the truth the other day . . . every smile had been faked. He never meant any of it. The thought made her mouth turn dry, the back of her throat like ash as she swallowed, trying to regain control.

Felicity had decided as she walked out of lunch that afternoon, away from a _real_ friend, that she was done with being sad over Oliver.

For days she had cried, she had tried to think a way around all of this – but there wasn't one. She had tried to do some good but it was over now, in the past. While she still had hope, she had to put herself first for once and get out. Oliver had made it perfectly clear that she was replaceable, so they would be fine without her. And as for her . . . she'd survive.

For the others, their night life saving the city was a need – Diggle was a soldier, Sara was looking for redemption and Oliver was too damaged for anything else.

That had never been the case for Felicity. When she had signed up, it had been to help a friend – Walter. She had stayed for the friends she made, to help _them_. For Oliver and Diggle, so they didn't get hurt or caught. But when Deathstroke came to the city and Oliver changed things weren't the same: they stopped joking in the Foundry, stopped laughing, and stopped being anything but soldiers in the mission to save the city.

Without that, Felicity had nothing left to fight for. Without them . . . she wasn't sure who she was supposed to be anymore. But maybe it was time to find out.

This city wasn't her hometown and she had lost everything she used to be in it. Seeing Ted today had made her realise that. Felicity knew she wasn't the person she was five years ago; in some ways she was better, in others . . . she had lost who she was. After spending years living for her friends, she knew making a life without them would be hard. But she had to do it, there had to be a way to start over.

Pulling a red jumper over her head and walking over to the mirror to pull her newly dried hair up into a ponytail, too tired to straighten it, she frowned at her reflection. The last few days had taken their toll on her – she looked tired, eyes more pronounced than usual behind her glasses, and her face was paler.

Felicity sighed, dropping her hands to her sides. She had to get over this – staying as she was and watching her friends fade until they all hated each other wasn't an option, and neither was spending the rest of her life wallowing about it.

"You are okay," she said to herself, ignoring the way her voice shook. Curling her hands into fists, she tried again more determinedly, face set. "You_ are_ okay. You helped people, and you can _still_ help people. Obviously not in the same way – what are the chances of bumping into another wayward vigilante in need of help – but you can do something. You are doing the right thing."

That part was much harder to believe. Although she was sure leaving was best for her, before she cracked under the strain of too much pressure, Felicity still worried about how her team would fare without her. What if they needed her? Who was going to run their mission control from the Foundry now?

The blonde turned back to the mirror. Forcing a smile on her face, Felicity watched it waver until it died, leaving her with nothing. Being happy again would come later she was sure, in fact, it already had in a way. Lunch with Ted today had been good. Maybe . . . maybe he was right. She needed a clean break, away from Starling and the Arrow - away from Oliver.

Resolving herself to at least considering his job offer even if it meant moving to Chicago, Felicity reached for her phone as it rang, thinking it was just Ted again.

"Let me guess – you're going to be late?" she said, smile twisting her lips upwards as she turned to lean on her desk. The only light on in the apartment was the small lamp by her side, casting everything else into shadows – she didn't want to see some of the pictures framed on her shelves right now. They showed her and her boys in better times, it didn't help that she had to see them every day. Perhaps she would take them down tomorrow.

Diggle's voice replied, "Um, Felicity?"

She jumped as if she had been electrocuted, hiding her face in her hand with embarrassment, "Digg! I'm sorry. I thought it was someone else-"

"Relax, Felicity," he chuckled on the other end. "It's okay. I was just wondering if you're free tomorrow. I thought we could grab lunch or dinner, talk things over. I don't want us to lose touch."

"I . . . of course. I wouldn't let that happen either. You're my friend." Felicity bit her lip, thinking that Ted would just have to amuse himself for a day, her other friend came first this time. She had already left things badly with one friend, she didn't want to lose Diggle too – the thought of not seeing him every day was unbearable enough - letting them loose touch completely was unthinkable. "I have something to ask you about, too. I'd appreciate your opinion."

"Sounds serious, we'd better make it dinner and a drink afterwards."

"You're on."

"7pm okay? Burgers on me?"

"Perhaps we should go somewhere else," Felicity said quickly, trying to cover up her haste afterwards, "I mean - we go there all the time. It's not healthy."

"Chinese, then," Diggle proposed, but he could tell his friend was avoiding something. Whatever it was, he was sure to hear about it tomorrow. "Sara recommended a place a while back, I've been meaning to go – apparently the ribs are delicious."

"Perfect," Felicity breathed a sigh of relief. As she opened her mouth to continue, her door bell rang – Ted was there to pick her up. Cursing silently, she grabbed her bag, heading for the door and opening it, motioning for Ted to give her a minute to wrap up the call. "Listen, I've got to go. Are you going out tonight?"

The edge to her voice told Diggle she meant with the Arrow, so answered, "We're checking something out, but it's not likely to get messy. Don't you worry about me."

"Good. Stay safe, Digg – I'll hold you to buying dinner tomorrow."

"You too. Wherever you're going, I'm glad you're getting out. Look out for yourself as well."

"Bye," Felicity smiled, ending the call. Looking up, she found Ted waiting at the door for her still – while his eyes watched her, his mind was obviously elsewhere. She had caught him off guard. His face was brooding, angry even; his jaw was locked in place, eyes glazed but something dark lurking in them as if he was playing something over and over in his mind as she approached.

When she waved a hand in front of his face, Ted jumped and grinned, "Ready?"

"Sure," she answered slowly, worried about what could have caused that expression. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course. Just thinking, Felicity."

"O-kay, let's go then. And you can tell me all about whatever it is that's bothering you."

He shook his head at her, still grinning, "Am I_ that_ transparent?"

"As a window, Teddy, but that's alright. I like that about you."

* * *

Felicity's regret at her suggestion of restaurant doubled as they sat down and ordered that night. Her stomach knotted itself almost painfully, setting her on edge, hands fumbling with the menu. As if she needed one – she had been here enough times to have it memories.

"What are you having?" Ted asked, not seeming to notice her distraction as he looked through the menu thoughtfully. Truth be told, he was starving – board meetings were killer, that one especially. He needed some good grub and preferably a few drinks before the night was done. He looked up to find Felicity glancing around, "Felicity?"

"I'll just have my usual," she replied to the waitress who had drifted past, sending her a small smile. The girl nodded, taking Ted's order too before leaving them alone.

"Is something wrong?"

Felicity shook her head, forcing her mind elsewhere. The guilt she felt at being there with anyone but Oliver or Diggle was stupid, she told herself. It was just a diner.

"No, I'm good. So . . . what's this big thing on your mind?"

"I, er," Ted shifted uncomfortably, pulling at his collar. He dropped eye contact almost immediately, "here's the thing – Oliver showed up at my meeting today."

"He _what_?" Felicity said, voice jumping in volume. She was angry – but at Oliver, not Ted. The chances of the Arrow just showing up at his company the same day she met up with her old friend was too much of a coincidence. No doubt this was his way of keeping tabs on her, as if he had any right to do so. "What was he doing there?"

"Bailing out my company here in Starling, apparently," Ted replied, clearly as annoyed with the situation as she was. His frowned deepened, "I really didn't know he was going to be there, Felicity. Believe me when I say I would have told you if I had known-"

"I do," she said quickly, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. She moved forwards in her seat, interested now and considering calling Oliver to give him a piece of her mind. "Why would he want to bail out K.I? Why was he there?"

"I wish I knew. All I know is that he's giving us a ton of money, and I betrayed you by working with him – he's the manager for K.I in Starling now. I'm so sorry, I tried to get out of it but there was no other way."

In his defence, Ted managed to do a very good impression of a kicked puppy as he delivered the news, truly ashamed of himself. As he had spoken, he had picked up the napkin at his side and started tearing it, pulling it to pieces. His shoulders slumped, eyes still on the plain white table cloth as the acid-feeling which had been plaguing him all evening slowly ate away at his gut. Ted liked to think of himself as a good friend – in his mind, this definitely went against that. And he felt terrible because of it.

"Hey," Felicity shook her head strongly, reaching over to catch his hand and squeeze it. "Did you really think I'd be mad? Ted, please. You saved your company and a lot of people's jobs, who you work with doesn't matter to me."

"But it's _him_," he moaned, meeting her eyes. His own were wide and guilty, "he hurt you, Felicity. I should be punching him, not signing up to be his new business partner."

Felicity actually laughed at that. The sound was unexpected, bubbling up in her chest before she began to giggle, hand moving to cover her mouth as she really, truly laughed, much to the shock of her friend.

"Oh _Ted_," she giggled, patting him on the arm sympathetically, "you're too much."

He frowned, expression changing quickly from guilt to outrage, grin teasing the edges of his mouth. "Hey! I'm bearing my soul to you here!"

"And it's truly adorable."

"Felicity! I – I_ betrayed_ you," he spluttered, "stop laughing at me! I am a despicable human being."

"You're an idiot, I don't know about anything else," she snorted. Finally, Felicity managed to get her laughing under control, noticing the way her sides burned afterwards – and that it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. "I know you didn't do it to hurt me, Teddy. Business is business – no, don't interrupt – I formally forgive you for working with my ex-employer. So stop with the guilty face."

"But-"

"No buts," she chuckled, "and don't make the obvious joke. It's really okay."

"You're really not mad at me?" he asked, face scrunched up to one side. Ted's face had brightened considerably; he'd even stopped shredding the napkin, a nervous habit she had actually given him back in college. He had been with Felicity again for a day, and all the ticks that had worn away over time had come back as naturally as riding a bike. "I don't want you to feel hurt, either. I still hate the guy – I even had a subtle go at him at the end of the meeting."

Her smile froze, turning to concern, "you didn't . . ."

"I just told him that I had no intention of being friends with someone like him, and that I was coming to dinner with you tonight. The guy looked like I'd kicked him, actually. I said he was a jackass to you, basically, and to stay away – I hope you don't mind." Ted looked a little abashed again, "it's not that I don't think that you couldn't handle yourself – I know you can – but I just didn't want to see you hurt by him again."

"I . . . it's fine," she finally said, after a pregnant pause. Felicity worried that Oliver might suspect her of telling Ted too much, deciding she could get Diggle to pass along a message that she hadn't tomorrow. No, that was immature – she would just call Oliver later, sort this between them. She was still mad at him for getting involved anyway.

"Are you sure? Because you look a little angry."

"I'm not," Felicity promised, forcing a smile in her friend's direction. It really wasn't that hard, which surprised her. "Thank you for sticking up for me, Ted. I appreciate it."

It wasn't a lie. Ted had been overprotective of her for a long time – he trusted her to get things done, yeah, but he had also had a knack of fighting any guys who didn't treat her right in college. Apparently he never lost that big brother instinct.

They were interrupted by their drinks coming. Felicity found her mind wandering again, the gears ticking over too many things and once and causing too much smoke in her head for her to think clearly. Aware that she was sipping the beer she had ordered as they waited for their food – she had ordered her usual, too distracted to do much else – Felicity blindly pulled from the bottle, eyes unfocused.

As she looked around, the ghosts of happier moments here met her eyes everywhere she looked. There was the table she had met with Oliver what felt like a million years ago, the first time she came here – it had been raining outside. She remembered that. She and Diggle had stood at that very counter and saw the news breaking about crimes across the city too many times, having to run away to save the day straight away. And across from that was their 'usual' table, in the perfect position to watch both the door and the other diners, settling even Oliver's paranoia long enough to sit down in peace.

The corner of her lips twitched up, the figures of her and her friends fading as soon as she blinked. The illusion shattered, the noise of the kitchen rolled back in: gentle clinking of cutlery and people talking, the clatters and scrapes of any eating place. Memories erased, the scene regained its focus – Felicity blinked to find Ted watching her carefully, head tilted to one side.

"What was that face?" he asked, but not angrily – there was only patience in his expression. Felicity had no idea how long she had spaced out, but she was grateful that her best friend's first action was always to be kind.

"Just . . . a lot of memories in this place," she forced a smile onto her face as she shrugged, but knew it fizzled out too soon to convince anyone, least of all herself, that she was okay.

"Good ones?"

She looked up expecting to see a chance, but Ted was just waiting again. If she was ever going to talk to someone about this, Felicity knew it would be now – the sooner she got it out of her system, the better.

"Yeah," she nodded, hearing the tiny crack in her voice, "yeah, they were. I used to come here all the time with some friends of mine . . . with a man called John Diggle – and Oliver."

"Queen? That asshole?"

"He never used to be. For the last few years, when I was working for him, Oliver was kind to me. He did more for me than I could ever tell you. He and Diggle both did. They _were_ my friends, for a time. Digg still is." Felicity managed a real smile, then. "The stupid thing is about all of this is that I feel sad that it ended this way. I feel _guilty_ for quitting. But I - I didn't have a choice, in the end. And sometimes I'm okay with it but then I come back here and-"

"Hey, it's okay." Ted tried to sooth her by taking her hand and rubbing it between his own, noticing the fresh tears springing up in her eyes, "I know it hurts to lose a friend. But you shouldn't feel guilty, not ever – we make the decisions we have to and live with the consequences as best we can. That's life." Images of Dan Garrett flashed across his mind, the friend he had lost in a very different way, as he tried to think of a way to make it better. He was still getting there himself. "You're not alone, Felicity. You still have this Diggle – and you still have me. It might not be much of a comfort, but whatever you need, you can come to me."

She smiled at him, tears drying in her eyes. She squeezed back tightly. There was nothing else to say, but her eyes told him the thank you her lips would never have to – this was what friends were for.

* * *

They ate after that, the conversation falling back to more stable ground. Talking about old friends they had or hadn't kept in touch with, sharing the little details of their lives for the past few years, remembering old jokes which in retrospect were better off left buried – it felt right. It was too easy, and they both appreciated that.

Once they were done, the hours had ticked away as the sky outside turned black, the diner closing around them when they finally left, walking out together.

"So," Ted said, keeping pace by her side naturally, "I have meetings in the day tomorrow, but I'm free on the night. Do you want to do this again?"

"I can't," she winced back. "That friend I told you about, John Diggle? We're going to dinner. I haven't spoken to him much since I quit, and I really don't want to leave it badly between us. He's a good guy - you'd like him."

"Then I'll have to try and bump into him before I leave," he replied, keen as ever to meet new people. Ted was a people-person at heart: he saw the best in everyone. Felicity should have known he would jump at the chance to make a new friend.

"You will – but not tomorrow, okay? I have a few things I really need to talk to him about alone."

"I get it," Ted held his hands up, "you need some alone time. Just don't be _lonely_, Felicity. I mean it."

"I know," she nodded, stopping at the intersection. Knowing his hotel was the other way, she swung her arms as she paused, biting her lip. Then she smiled, "that's what I have you for, right?"

"Damn straight," he agreed, grin catching on quickly. "But you're definitely seeing me again before I leave. And don't forget to think about-"

"The job, yes." Felicity rolled her eyes. "You only mentioned it, say, ten thousand or so times."

"Is that mockery, Smoak?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she replied, eyebrows jumping up. "I'll talk to Diggle about it, I swear. Goodnight, Dork."

"Nerd," he answered without thinking, winking at her as she turned and walked away.

Although she would never admit it, the huge smile which grew on Felicity's face as she turned her back never left her face for the entire walk home, and it was the small hope which helped her to sleep better that night than she had all week.

* * *

**A/N: so corrections are up-to-date now, and I'll start writing slowly again. I've missed it, but things have been ten types of stress recently. Perhaps writing will help me relax again. Anyway, review!**


	6. The Great Beyond

**'The great beyond'**

The Chinese place Sara had recommended was small and out of the way, steam rising from the windows behind the bar they ordered at before taking a small table against the wall, the scents of spice and smoke lingering on the air. It wasn't the fanciest place in the city, but it was perfect for what they needed: good food, and a place to catch up properly. Only a few other diners sat around, a lone man at the counter and a family a few tables away, so Diggle and Felicity smiled at the place approvingly as they sat down, making identical faces at one another which ended up with them laughing loudly.

"I missed this," Felicity commented quietly. They were sitting, ordering within a minute of getting there and settling instantly. It was easy – there was no rush, no strain. All that mattered was that their phones were off for the night and they had the time to talk.

Diggle looked up, taking a sip of his beer. "It's been too quiet without you around."

"I bet that was a relief," Felicity scoffed, only half-joking, "you must be getting so much more work done without me, you know, babbling down your ear."

"No. Not really. It's _too _quiet – it's not the same, Felicity. The Foundry needs you." He fell silent for a minute, as if picking his next words carefully. Diggle was quick as a whip when it came to talking back to the Arrow, but also knew to make his words count in moments like this, "Oliver misses you, although he'd never say it. Sara too, but she does say it. A lot. I think she's planning a mutinity to avenge you at this point."

Felicity laughed, "I'll try and meet up with her sometime, too. I'll tell her it's okay – I _chose_ to go."

"Please, let her put Oliver in his place first. That boy needs some sense smacked into him for letting you go."

" . . . Digg."

"I don't mean to upset you," he said quickly, noticing the look on her face, "I just wanted you to know you're missed. No matter what Oliver said, we _were_ all friends. This . . . this saved me. I thought I wouldn't cope as a civilian again, not after the war. He didn't fake all of that – and for the record, I'll always be here for you."

"Thanks, Digg."

"Just don't forget to call. I want to hear from you every week, otherwise I'll worry."

"I text you almost every day as it is, things don't have to change."

The restaurant was still clicking and bubbling around them, but the noise dulled around them. For a moment, all that mattered was her friend, and Felicity quite liked it that way. It meant she didn't have to think about the future. The decision had been weighing on her mind, nagging in the background of her every thought.

Diggle smiled sadly, "They already have."

"I didn't want to go," she replied, shrugging. She had already decided not to blame herself anymore, ignoring the twitch in her stomach at the words. "I had to. You get that, right?"

"I do. You made the right call."

"But you still don't sound happy about it."

"There's a psycho in the city, one of my best friends is acting like his dog just got run over by a ten ton truck and the other is considering leaving. I have a lot of reasons not to be happy," he lifted his drink and took a long swig, grinning at the shock on Felicity's face across from him. "What?"

"H-How did you know I was thinking of leaving?"

"I'm not a fool," he replied. "You quit your job – day and night, and you're arguing with one of the most important people in your life. You need space, it's obvious. There's not much left for you here."

"There's you," she said softly. "I don't want to just leave you completely. It feels too much like running away."

"Is it to something better?"

"I . . . maybe. I don't know yet."

"And you never will, unless you give it a try," he said. Diggle crossed his arms, "Is it something to do with this Kord guy? Oliver is so keeping tabs on you, by the way, and mentioned the two of you were pretty chummy. I haven't seen him that red since Sara and Roy spiked his drink with those Carolina Reaper peppers."

They both laughed at the memory for a few seconds, before the smile fell from Felicity's face. It had been a few months ago, in the time when Oliver was starting to smile for real; they had all been in the Foundry going stir crazy for days with the city so peaceful, and Roy had decided they needed something to do. That something had turned out to be pranking Oliver. It was easy to forget with the way they lived that he really was young, but seeing his glee as he and Sara planned out a way to spike Oliver's drink had reminded Felicity of a child and his father – not that either would ever admit to seeing the other as that. But they were a family. Almost.

She huffed out a defeated breath. It was hard enough walking away without thinking of who else she was leaving behind. If she chose to leave . . . she'd miss Roy, too. Hell, she could barely cope without them in the same city, how on earth would she be able to cope if she moved to Chicago? It hurt just to think it, she ached from memories. It was all too hard.

"Yeah."

Diggle changed the subject back, seeing her mind wander somewhere. If Felicity's head wasn't in it, he was sure nothing he said would get through to her, and he needed to do that. He, Sara and Roy had talked that afternoon and decided one of them had to talk to Felicity and get her to do whatever was best for her, regardless of how _they_ felt about her. He'd agreed to be the front-man for their plan. "So, who is this Kord guy?"

"My best friend – before you, of course," Felicity said, a sheepish smile fleetingly crossing her features. "You're my number one now, Digg."

"Nice save."

"Thanks very much," she nodded. "Don't judge him before you've met him, Ted is a good guy. An idiot, but a good one."

On her face, the smile righted itself once more. It flickered with familiarity, a comfort Diggle had not seen on her in a while – not since Slade's appearance. It was clear that whatever was going on, Ted Kord had improved Felicity's spirits significantly. Anyone who managed that was good in Diggle's book.

"And he's what? Asked you out?"

"Oh, God no!" Felicity shook her head, choking on her drink mid-sip. She spluttered between her words, but it was mixed with laughter, as if the notion was ludicrous. "Please, Ted is just a friend. I've known him since forever. He wouldn't – _we_ wouldn't_ ever_-"

"So he _hasn't_ asked you to leave town with him?" Diggle asked, brow creasing. "Now I'm just confused."

"He's offered me a job with him at Kord Industries," Felicity told him. She paused for a moment as their food was called and Diggle walked to the counter to fetch it, offering a 'thank you' before tearing into the noodles she had ordered. To distance herself from it, she was carefully twisting each forkful of food as she talked, desperate to keep her hands and mind busy as her mouth talked. "It's in the Research and Development department, doing what I used to – working with computers. It's a good company: some of the projects they're working on are years ahead of anything else on the market. And . . . it's what I trained for years to do. _Not_ get Oliver coffee."

At the mention of their boss, Diggle snorted. "I get that. I used to be a_ soldier_, now I'm a driver. But Felicity," he paused, waiting for her to look up before continuing, "It doesn't define us, what we've had to be for the mission. Both of us have lives outside of the Arrow. It sounds like it's a pretty sweet deal Kord Industries is offering you, everything you ever wanted . . . so why are you hesitating?"

Felicity remained intently focused on twisting her food artfully onto her fork, giving the automatic response, "It's a big decision to make."

"You've made bigger in a split second. Quite a lot, actually."

Felicity's mind was torn to finding a bleeding vigilante in the back of her car, to jumping in front of Sara to take a bullet, to hacking into countless databases more times than she could remember. All those times, she had been in complete control – but there was no choice. It was simple to her, easy even: she did whatever Oliver would want her to do, whatever would help the city the most. That was her drive.

Without it, the decision was harder. But she had the feeling that wasn't what Diggle meant at all when he said that. When she looked up, his gaze was steadily on her, so she gave the only answer she had. "It was different then. It was always clear what I had to do."

"Why?"

"Because . . . I had a purpose," she frowned, feeling the hotness in her eyes double as she shrank back into herself, "I don't anymore."

"You do," Diggle said. He spoke with a calm candor which piqued her interest, drawing her attention back to him. "No matter what it is you do – you, Felicity, help people. Whether that's by fighting with us or helping to design a computer that can stop bombs or restart a heart or whatever you could work on at Kord Industries - the end remains the same. You help people."

"It wouldn't be the same."

"No," Diggle agreed, "But it was never gonna be the same, was it?"

It appeared to him that Felicity was going to crumble for a moment, as her eyes closed and she slowly shook her head, the world freezing in respect for her grief. And it was that, he was sure – she was losing them, or felt like she was; more than that, she was losing the future they had. All those maybes and possibilities of family and friendship and _Oliver_ – because they were the least subtle people he knew at this point. Felicity was grieving for the future that might have been, if things had gone differently. Diggle saw it all in that movement, the resigned incline of her head as she squeezed her eyelids together to try as wish it away. Then she opened them, and the brightness remained.

"You're right," she said ruefully, putting down her fork to cross her hands underneath her chin. "I've been trying to tell myself for days to just move on, get out. But . . . it's not – it's not easy. Not to leave, and not to let go."

"It's only the end if you let it be. I'm still here, so are the others, and even if you take the job, we will _always_ be here for you. You can be away for years and that won't change, because we're a family now – and I want what's best for you."

Felicity nodded her head, "You think I should take the job."

"I think some perspective would do you good," Diggle replied frankly, "I _know_ it's a great opportunity for you to do something with your life, and I believe you'll still do good, even if you leave. Felicity – of course I'd love it if you stayed, but _you _wouldn't. You need more than some office job here. You need something which challenges you, something more than Starling can give you right now."

"But if I go . . ." Felicity tugged a piece of hair behind her ear, playing the words out in her head. "What if I can't live without this?"

"You can. You _will_." Seeing her face was still uncertain, Felicity biting the inside of her lip and again turning her gaze anywhere but his face, Diggle played the only card he had left. "Ask yourself this: where will you be most happy? That's all that counts."

Slowly, Felicity looked up. It almost pained her to say it, but she did. She had to. "With Ted."

To her surprise, Diggle smiled warmly. There was not one drop of resentment in his eyes, which she didn't expect in the first place – but there was no judgement, either. No opinion. No dislike of her for choosing to go. All he held in his gaze was what he always did: hope. "Then there's your answer."

* * *

**A/N: yeah, I know I haven't updated in forever. I did however re-work the first five chapters and scrub out any mistakes I missed the first time. I thought about giving up on this story for a while but I've found some inspiration to start it up again (thank whoever is responsible for justice league 3000 and the return of Ted and Booster teaming up), and I'll try to keep posting semi-regularly. I'm sorry. please review with what you'd like to see next! **


	7. Where you should be

**'Where you should be'**

"I've made a decision."

Hearing the words down the phone, Ted knew that whatever came out of Felicity's mouth next would be her final words on the matter and she wouldn't change her mind. He remembered that tone perfectly. It was usually the voice she put on right before she told him off for something.

Ted paused in the middle of the street. It was his third day in the city and most of his meetings were done with – the company had been bailed out by QC, but he'd met with the other heads of staff in the building that afternoon. He'd been about to head back to his hotel and crash, but he had a feeling in his gut that this conversation was worth stopping for.

For better or worse, she was a woman with a plan.

"Good," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady. Somewhere along the way, the idea of Felicity saying no and losing touch with her again had become unthinkable: he needed a friend, especially now. "Whatever you decide . . . I'm here for you. What _did_ you decide?"

"I love Starling city," Felicity said, and Ted felt his heart drop. She was going to stay. Feet dragging with each step, he tried not to sigh out loud in disappointment, straying through a park off the path, away from the cluttering of feet and chatter of people. In his ear, she spoke on as he wandered through the greenery, "It means _so_ much to me – more than I could ever say. I've lived in a lot of places, but this is the first one to feel like home. I . . . I thought I'd stay here forever."

Hopefully, Ted heard the change in her voice. He sat down on a bench, crossing one leg over another, although his suit restricted the movement. "I'm sensing a 'but' in there somewhere."

"You sense a butt everywhere, T."

"Funny!" Ted half-yelled sarcastically, shaking his head. "You really need some new material. I thought by now you'd have moved on from the same five jokes you told in college."

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm _very_-" Felicity started to shout herself, but cut the sentence off with a fake scowl. "Damn it, Ted! I had this whole speech worked out and you went and ruined it!"

"I'll stop now, I promise," Ted laughed. "Hear that? That was the sound of me miming zipping my lips. Quiet as a mouse, that's me. Ted the mouse man-"

"Teddy?"

"I actually _am_ shutting up now."

"Good. Okay, so where was I?" Felicity sounded mildly confused on the other end of the line, pausing to gather her thoughts. In his mind, Ted knew she was probably pinching her glasses and pacing as they spoke, and tried to crush the smile building on his lips. "Starling. I – I love it, but there's no future for me here. If I want the life I dreamt of when we were in college, it can't be here, I need an opportunity to start fresh. A new life. _You_ can offer me that."

"Gladly."

"So that's one reason to accept your offer. Another is that I laugh with you, Teddy. I haven't laughed properly in months and then you managed to make me smile again within _minutes _of bumping into you. And I really need a friend I can trust, one I know won't abandon me."

"I'd never do that."

"I know. You're like a brother to me; we've known each other that long. And I've been so busy for the past few years . . . I've kind of lost touch with everyone. I regret that. I- it's hard to exaplain since I can't tell you everything."

"Why?" Ted asked, "Maybe getting it off your chest will help. Secrets have a bad habit of weighing you down."

"It's not my secret to tell."

"Ballpark it."

Felicity made of noise of frustration. Ted had known she was keeping something from him, but now he understood the toll it was taking on her, and frowned. He suddenly wished they were having this conversation face to face.

She tried to talk anyway, although he could tell from the pauses she was struggling. "It's just . . . the last few years, things have been so crazy, and I've grown for it, got better in some ways – but, uh, I need someone who can help remind me how to live. Who I used to be. I've been this person – this _other_ Felicity – for so long, and if I want to move on . . . I need someone who can help me find my way back to just Felicity Smoak. And I realize how referring to myself in the third person makes me a douchebag."

"It doesn't," Ted laughed, but her words struck a nerve. "This double life deal – I get it. It's hard to balance two parts of yourself. But you don't need to, Felicity, that's not the point. Who you were when I knew you and who you are now – they're both the same person. They're both you. And that's who I want for my team."

"And I want to accept the offer," Felicity blurted out, as if she was surprising herself. "I want to come and work for you at Kord Industries."

Ted felt himself smile stupidly, like this was the best news ever. He felt that with Felicity on board, nothing could go wrong. "Welcome to the company, nerd."

* * *

"Are you sure that's everything?" Sara asked for the fiftieth time. "It doesn't seem like many boxes."

Behind her back, Diggle groaned and handed Roy twenty dollars, which the grinning boy pocketed. The bet had been about whether the scary canary was actually a mother hen beneath the layers of anger and violence, and Roy had chosen the winning side. The blonde had spent all day double and triple checking everything, fussing over every last detail to make sure nothing was left behind.

"It's everything," Felicity nodded. She looked around her empty apartment, a collection of cardboard boxes lying by the door but the rest bare, her pictures taken down, her treasured objects stored away. Seeing it that way, she paled, "I'm all set."

"Don't you go getting cold feet," Diggle told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it for comfort, but all she could do was look up and shake her head at him, not trusting herself to speak. Leaning into his shoulder, Felicity half-hugged Diggle and forced herself to walk out of her empty apartment, grabbing a box as she left and still not quite believing it was all real.

It was a week since she'd accepted the job at Kord Industries. Ted had returned to Chicago the day after that, but had been making preparations for Felicity's arrival ever since – she was staying with him until she could get a new place, and she started her new job almost immediately.

Things had moved too fast to seem real, a flurry of phone calls and emails and arranging for her things to be transported, but suddenly it was staring her in the face, and Felicity Smoak was terrified.

* * *

The drive to the airport was quiet, the sound of Diggle's radio breaking the absolute silence of the car's inhabitants. It had also been broken for years, so the songs came out warped, like a wind-up radio that had run down too much but feebly struggled on to play it's tune.

All too soon, they were grabbing Felicity's bag of essentials for the first few days from the trunk, walking as a unit into the grey building. Oliver hadn't shown. Diggle and Sara had made a point of mentioning it in front of him enough times for him to get the message that they expected him to at least show, but he didn't; they stalled for as long as they could in the departures lounge until it was clear he never intended to show in the first place.

It angered them silently, but Felicity was saved from the hurt as she didn't know if he had been told she was leaving yet or not. She certainly hadn't told him, trying to keep her distance on all counts to make the transition easier for them both, too busy organising things to really feel his absence, aside from fleeting moments when she expected him to say something or do something, only to turn and remember he wasn't there anymore.

"Listen," Felicity said, standing awkwardly in front of her sitting friends as they waited for the flight to get called. "I'm not going to give some long goodbye speech because that would be dumb, it's not like I'm never going to see you guys again. But I do want to thank you all for uh, your help with the moving out part. I couldn't have gotten this all sorted in time without you, so . . . thanks. Really."

"You're welcome, Felicity," Diggle smiled fondly at her. "But if you're not gonna say anything, I _am_." He stood, the others following suit and standing in front of her in a semi-circle. "I'm proud of you, for everything that you've done for us and others, and I_ know_ you're gonna do just fine in Chicago. But remember that no matter what, there's a place for you here in Starling."

"Absolutely," Sara agreed beside him, looking at the other women with genuine adoration, "If you ever need anything, all you have to do is call and I'll be there."

Roy smirked, adding, "And while you're rooming with the billionaire, I expect to be invited over at least once."

"Oh yeah, that too," Diggle nodded solemnly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Just keep in touch, okay?"

"I promise," Felicity nodded, trying not to cry. She was failing so far, eyes misty with unshed tears which she swiped at, passing the movement off as fixing her glasses. It didn't fool anyone. "The same to you guys – if you ever need help with the computers or need me to talk you through anything, just call. And please, if you really need me and Oliver's being stubborn about calling me – do it anyway. I couldn't bear to lose any of you and not be here."

"Deal. If he acts out about it, I'll knock Ollie out myself," Sara joked.

Quickly, the leather-clad super-heroine crossed the small gap and embraced the other woman, careful to be gentle. Felicity started at the hug, but reciprocated with warmth, laughing a little. When they had first met, she had been intimidated beyond words by Sara, but it hadn't taken them long to become thick as thieves; there were few people she trusted more in the world to have her back than the woman she squeezed tightly, already missing their occasional girl's nights in the club they worked above. The two parted without words, but it was not necessary – they knew where they stood perfectly.

Next, Roy tried to get out of the hug with a handshake but Felicity pulled him in regardless, looping one arm and his neck and the other around his side, her head resting in his shoulder. He had grown a lot since she had first met him, and Felicity had a feeling he'd outshine them all, given time.

"Jeez, blondie," he mocked, but there was no malice in it, "I didn't know you cared."

Felicity just shook her head a little as a tear finally leaked free, trailing down her face as she let him go. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she squeezed it quickly and said low enough so only he could hear, "We all care, Roy. Just some of us are better at showing it . . . don't forget that they do care about you, no matter how they act sometimes."

"I-I won't."

"Good. And keep at it; you're doing good out there."

Before he could answer that, she had stepped away, leaving the younger man feel as if a stone that had been wedged in his heart was finally tore free, allowing him to feel again. It was true that Oliver had been taking recent events out on him, too, making Roy question his path with the Team, but Felicity's words reminded him that he was making a difference. The caring part he struggled to believe, but was starting to.

Last, but my no means least, she gave Diggle the biggest hug of all. He towered above her unlike the others, so Felicity had to reach up to put her arms around his neck, lifted off the ground for a second before he stooped to return to gesture, warm arms enclosing her almost completely. He was the best hugger she had known, like, _ever_. Diggle was her best friend, the one she would miss the most, and it almost killed Felicity on the spot to think she might not hug him again for some time.

"I-" she started shakily, but couldn't finish the sentence. Her breath hitched as she just squeezed tighter, burying her head in his chest.

"Shhhh," Diggle soothed, consistent as ever in his affections, "I know, I know. Me too."

"Good," she murmured back. As her flight was called in a blaring voice overhead, they both froze, Felicity reluctantly pulling away and attempting to wipe her eyes. She made a face, "How obvious is it that I've been crying?"

Sara laughed, "You look fine. Chicago won't know what hit 'em."

Felicity only rolled her eyes at that, grabbing the handle of her wheeled suitcase and hesitating a moment longer, just looking at her friends. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to nod firmly to spur her own movement, adding to them all, "take care of yourselves."

As she turned, Felicity's eyes scanned the airport hopefully for Oliver. Somehow, she still held out hope that he cared and that he might show up to say goodbye or beg her to stay, but there was nothing, so she walked dejectedly to the plane, barely recalling showing her boarding pass and taking her seat afterwards.

There was just an empty space where he should be, and that's all there would be for a long time.

* * *

**A/N: **_look! I actually updated! next chapter we'll finally be getting to the Blue Beetle/Kord Industries main plot. please review :)_


	8. No Smoak Without Fire

** 'No Smoak Without Fire'**

"Felicity?"

As her name was called from the door, the blonde in question looked up from her desk. Golden hair spilled out of a ponytail like a waterfall glistening in sunlight, and the white lab coat she wore covered her dress, only leaving black heels on show. Although she looked vastly different in her new role, the same glasses were perched on her nose, square frames the ones she had worn since college; Felicity Smoak was the same as ever.

Currently she was frowning, the laptop in front of her the source of her fury. For three days she had been trying to decrypt it after Ted had dropped it on her desk - which was piling up with projects to complete. So far she'd loved working at Kord Industries, but it was more work than she was used to and Felicity was starting to look forward to going home and sleeping all night.

She missed spending all night saving the city less here. Moving on seemed to be working a whole lot better away from Starling, but she wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.

"Yeah?" she replied, seeing Angie standing nervously in the doorway. Ted's dark haired assistant was a sweet girl, but always seemed to be on the run from something, skirting anxiously around the building and seeming to appear from thin air at times.

"Mr. Kord asked if you'd come to the R&amp;D floor. He wants to show you something."

Felicity shook her head, astounded. "Again? I was down there . . ." She checked her watch. "Well, three hours ago, but still. It seems like I spend most of my time going from one floor to another."

"He_ likes_ showing you things." Angie gave a small laugh as Felicity got to her feet, discarding the offending laptop as a tower of files spilled over it, hiding it from sight. As they walked through Felicity's floor, the technical department of which she was now the head, the younger girl went on. "I think he just gets excited, really; he wants to show you every new thing. Ted likes having you around."

"I like _being_ around," Felicity beamed back, trying not to smile at the comment.

"I mean it," Angie said, piping up. "He was always a happy person, but he kept to himself sometimes. I worried."

Felicity frowned, "There was something wrong with him?"

"No, no," Angie backtracked quickly. "I just meant that sometimes he'd be . . . distant. He'd lock himself up in his office all day and no one would know what to do."

"Did he ever say why?"

"I never liked to ask. I don't know him that well, he's just my boss. But since you've been here, we've all seen a difference in him. Mr. Kord needed a friend, I think. You've made the world of difference in him."

This time, Felicity couldn't keep the grin off her face as they stepped into the elevator, pressing the sub-basement button. That piece of information was something she could tease Ted mercilessly over when they got home later. But it was worrying at the same time – she had thought Ted had been acting strangely too, but chalked it up to him changing during the time they were apart.

"Angie," she asked cautiously, glancing across the elevator, "If you notice Ted acting odd again, could you tell me? I don't want to ask you to go behind his back like that, believe me, but maybe if I knew next time . . . I could help. But only if you're comfortable with it."

"Uh, I don't know. I wouldn't want to spy on Mr. Kord like that."

"I'm not asking you to spy," Felicity shook her head, "just . . . keep being his friend too. And if you happen to notice something is up, as his _friend_, you should want to help him."

She knew it was borderline manipulation, but Felicity had learnt that one from the best. Oliver's influence was harder to shake than she had thought. But she knew that if something was going on, it was better if she knew, and the best way to do that was through Angie – the eyes and ears of Kord Industries.

After a pause, the girl nodded. "Okay. I'll tell you."

"Thank you."

The rest of the descent was quiet, Felicity silently cursing herself for what she had done. Asking Angie to spy on Ted – well, not _spying_ per say, but whatever this was – it was wrong. Once the doors opened with a cheery beep, she and Angie walked into the R&amp;D lab: the most likely place to find Ted at any given moment.

Blue strip lights lit the impossibly large room, which took up the entire foundation of the building, and in the centre of that was a high-tech laboratory, decked out in black cabinets and too many buttons for the average person to use. This level of the Kord building was closed to all but the elite few; a small team of scientists who worked on special projects Ted assigned them – which could be anything from medical research to trying to make a robot which could predict the super bowl scores.

The team worked to the whim of their boss, who had been spending insane amounts of time down there in the past week and calling Felicity to see something or see if she could solve a problem they had come up against every few hours. It was mad, but it was fun. Which was exactly what Felicity needed.

"Hey!" Ted called, racing towards them and skidding the past few inches to stop in front of Felicity and Angie, clasping something small and metallic in the palm of his hand. "Hey, hey, hey – look at this. Isn't it cool?"

"Sure," Felicity said, stressing the 'e' out. "What is it?"

"It's a thing."

"A thing?"

Ted nodded vigorously, heading back towards his workspace and motioning for her to follow. "A cool thing."

"And what does it do exactly?" Felicity asked. She rolled her eyes as she walked behind him, nodding with only a hint of awkwardness to the other scientists who had access to be in that particular lab. Still not sure of her place there, she stuck to polite formalities at work.

"Well . . . not a lot right now." Ted pouted as he stopped at his section of the lab, placing the device onto a raised platform and glaring at it. Then he turned to her sunnily, "which is why you're here."

Felicity sighed, raking a hand through the loose strands of her pony tail. "Ted, I've got a billion other things you've set me waiting on my desk. I cannot physically get it all done at once."

"Then give some of the other stuff to your people, that's why I put you in charge," he shrugged lazily in return. "I want you on this until it's done. C'mon, Felicity. This can be_ our_ project. It'll be fun."

"It'll be fun," Felicity snorted back, but sat down at his desk anyway. "The last time you said that to me, we almost got arrested."

Ted laughed heartily, and she found herself inclined to join in, passing it off as a huff as he said, "That was _one_ time, and years ago. Let it go already!"

* * *

A week later, Chicago almost felt homely to Felicity. She was starting to know the people, had a new favourite coffee shop, and had even tried at the city's most popular club with Ted the night before. It was not the same as Verdant, with a wall entirely flashing lights and no secret vigilante living beneath it (she hoped not, anyway), but they had danced and laughed, so it was what it needed to be. A distraction. Things were starting to look up.

Most days, she drove to work with Ted in one of his cars, but today she walked through the windy city alone. In all the bustle of moving, Felicity hadn't found the time to really collect herself and think about the decision she had made yet. Everything had been go, go, go – she needed to stop. Just for five minutes. Just to catch her breath.

The half-hour walk gave her time to do exactly that, or at least she hoped it would.

Chicago was painfully familiar yet refreshingly new simultaneously, the feeling of the past repeating itself unsettling. Like when she had moved to Starling, Felicity had come to the city looking for a fresh start. The city itself was like any – grey pavements, tall buildings, enough crime to be considered dangerous but nothing on the super-villain scale she had come to judge her life by. There were more people in business suits than out of them and very few of them smiled while the sun was out. The night life provided an escape for the city's inhabitants; or at least most of them.

For her, things here felt . . . slow. Sure, dancing at the club the night before had been so carefree and different than what she was used to, but at the same time, it was dull where it should have been exciting. She was less self-conscious than she would have been doing it a year ago.

Felicity figured that you stopped being scared of ordinary people when you'd been held at gunpoint by psychopaths.

Not that being attacked was her idea of fun – but at least it made her feel _something_. Scared, yes. But she always felt like she had done something good when their schemes came together and the Arrow put another criminal behind bars.

She didn't miss it. She _didn't_ miss it.

_Damn it_, Felicity thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as her feet subconsciously stepped quicker, _she missed it_.

But there was nothing to be done about that now: she had made her choice and would live with it. Out of everything she had learned about herself in that time, the most surprising to her had been her ability to adapt to any situation. This was just another one to learn to live with.

Not that it was all bad. She liked her work better here – she was doing what she was trained for. It was challenging, but worthy.

Just two days before, she and Ted had developed a new operating system for their entire building, a technical PA on every monitor in the entire place which could answer almost anything. It could contact anyone in the building; access any public record within minutes and made security almost impenetrable. The practical uses of it in hospitals, schools or government buildings were limitless; they were just starting to talk about having it sold in the public sector.

Felicity smiled outwardly, the peace and quiet as she walked finally allowing her to think it out. It was helping to ground her. The world was making sense when she thought about it, the remaining doubts about leaving Starling gradually being erased, as the sun did the same to the last traces of night on the sky around her. It was early still, not many people around as she got closer to her new workplace.

The Kord Building was visible from just about anywhere in the city. She could see it from her room in Ted's fancy top-floor apartment; she could see it as she walked towards it, piercing above most of the other buildings around it, a blue needle among the matchstick grey skyscrapers. It was as extravagant as was expected of it, made of glass and imposing, bearing the Kord name – but the colour was the other side of the company; the fun, the _Ted_-ness of it. It was his heart.

Ted loved his company. It was one of the few things Felicity had learnt in the week she had been there. In Starling, she had been too busy and too caught up in things to even consider how seriously he would take the work when she got there, but after a week working with him, it was very clear how Ted had grown into the role, and his responsibilities. He might spend most of his time in the labs, but he was mostly there when he was needed, aside from a few odd absences she didn't even want to question, and put his soul into his work.

She was proud. Determined not to let him down, she used her new I.D card to let herself into the impressive building when she arrived that morning, nodding to the security guard as she entered.

"Good morning, ma'am," he nodded, tipping his hat to her. "Mr. Kord not with you today?"

"Er . . . no. We went out last night, so, um, he said he wouldn't be in this morning," Felicity answered with a nervous smile, heading for the elevator. "I'm sure he'll be in when he's feeling . . ."

"Sober?"

She laughed, stepping into the elevator when it arrived. "Something like that."

Once she was alone, Felicity reflected on the final new thing about working at Kord Industries – her new position. Ted had made her the head of the R&amp;D and tech departments, with a full workforce answering to her, including Ted himself on occasion, who had been the role's predecessor. Although he claimed that her taking on the job would give him more time to address his CEO responsibilities, they mostly just worked together in the lab, or Ted sat in her office while she worked with whatever blueprints he had drawn up and talked.

It was still odd being respected, but Felicity would be lying if she said she didn't like it – just a little bit.

* * *

"Hey, turn on the tv!" Angie skidded into the room in a scurry, heels clicking an impossibly fast beat on the floor.

"Why?" At her desk, Felicity jumped in surprise, the young assistant being the only visitor she had received that day, having seen so sign of Ted yet. When he hadn't been in at lunch, she had left him a message asking where he was, but assumed he was just sick when he didn't call her back. Inside, she tried not to be secretly relieved of a day working in peace. It was late now – past six she saw, when the screen across the room came on showing the day's news.

"The Beetle's back!" Angie beamed happily, walking over with the remote clasped firmly in her hand. She jumped onto the edge of Felicity's desk and sat, eyes intently on the screen in front of them both now, legs swinging. She didn't notice the bafflement on Felicity's face, shushing the other woman when Felicity opened her mouth to ask what was going on. "Shhh, we'll miss it."

Not sure how to react, Felicity turned her eyes to the screen. A blonde reporter stood in front of a burning building, a crew of firemen working in the background to quench the flames. The structure itself was a scar in the landscape, burned an ugly black and falling, reduced to ash and smoke. That kind of destruction did not fit a normal accidental fire.

Felicity felt a kick in her gut. Immediately, she knew there was a problem with this picture – with all of this, and yet it somehow felt familiar, like she'd seen it all before.

The reporter spoke, motioning to the flames behind her. Felicity focused on the words carefully, "Eyewitness reports claim to have seen the Blue Beetle, the hero believed to have retired six months ago, is back in action in the city tonight. After a confrontation with a man calling himself 'Firefist' in the building seen behind me, where I can announce there were no casualties thanks to the Beetles intervention, police tried to take in the former vigilante after he pulled a fireman from the flames, but he used some type of new aircraft to escape. 'Firefist' went missing from the scene, and a fire crew are still battling the flames here downtown."

"Now, the question on a lot of people's minds is whether the hero is back for good," the reported said, putting on a smile too flirtatious to be taken seriously. "And if he's out there somewhere right now – thank you. The people of Chicago are behind you all the way."

"Wow," Angie breathed. She watched the screen, mesmerised, and Felicity could remember that feeling back when the vigilante was a new thing in Starling – the hope that there was somebody out there looking out for all of them. "He's back. I can't believe it – we all thought . . ."

"So who _is_ this?" Feicity asked, voice edging on demanding as she got to her feet and took the remote from Angie, switching the TV off and standing in front of the younger woman with her arms crossed.

This was hitting her too close to home, leaving her thinking there was _no way_ this was a coincidence that the two places to goes to, there just so happens to be a god damn_ superhero_. Nu-huh, no way.

"Oh right, you're not from here," Angie blushed awkwardly, "I'm sorry for busting in. The set in the break room is broken and I heard something had happened."

"I don't care about that. But please, just tell me what this is."

"The Blue Beetle," the younger girl shrugged innocently. Her feet still swung against the desk, hitting it with a hollow thump every few seconds, but Felicity was so zeroed in on the impossibility of it all that time seemed to have slowed; she heard only her own hammering heart beat. Angie went on, "He used to be here all the time, but he . . . he went away. Nobody knew why. H-he's a hero."

"It can't be . . ." Felicity whispered to herself, turning away. "Not _again_."

"Miss Smoak, are you alright?" Angie asked. She nervously got to her feet and shuffled closer, face concerned now. "Would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

"No, no, no," she replied quickly, "I'm fine. Rreally. It's just . . . this is . . ."

"Impossible?"

"Yeah. Like, way to impossible to even think about right now."

Angie let out a small laugh, pushing her glasses onto her nose, a habitual gesture. "I'd have thought you were used to that. Don't you have a vigilante in Staring City, too? When you came I had to fill in your personnel file, and there was a police report attacked – he saved you, didn't he?"

"I-I guess," Felicity stammered out. She didn't know that such a file existed, but was going to be having words with Detective Lance about it. If anyone worked out her connection to Oliver because of a police file, she could be in real danger. "The Arrow. I just thought . . . that I was past all of that."

"Everywhere needs a hero, I guess."

Angie smiled at her once more before leaving, a hopeful upturn of lips and light in her eyes that wasn't before. Trying to keep calm, Felicity forced her own mouth into the same position and nodded as the other woman left, although it looked more grim than gleeful. It was like looking into a mirror of herself three years ago: believing in heroes, that things could be changed by a handful of people who blindly believed what they were doing was right.

Yeah, right. She was older now, less naïve. Felicity Smoak knew the score with superheroes – it just ended with pain and heartbreak; the hope was just its way to get a foot in the door of your life, then screwed you over. Faith never got her very far – it was only the times she had been ruthless that things had gone her way.

"No, thank you," she said aloud to herself, slamming the remote onto the table in the centre of the room. She had been there once before, and look how that turned out. "Never again."

Felicity left her office dark that night, pointedly ignoring the burnt out building as she crossed it on her way home, head held high and turned away from it. She wouldn't look back. That wasn't her life anymore, it wasn't her place.

She made it to the end of the street before she caved, looking towards the husk of the building and just for a second wondering how long it would take her to find this so called 'Firefist' and bring him in.

Blue Beetle might have been Chicago's hero – but he wasn't it's only one.

* * *

** A/N: I know, I'm awful. In my defence, I had a massive drama exam and a lot of uni interviews in the past few weeks, and my stress levels have been off the charts without having to think about writing, too. But things have settled. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, please do review and give me motivation for the next one. That one will be Team Arrow (minus it's moodiest member) visiting Felicity, and spanning the duration of her first summer in Chicago - and the first few times she met the Blue Beetle. **


	9. Time for You to Stand Up

**'Time for You to Stand Up'**

It took Felicity two days to discover the identity of the self-proclaimed 'Firefist'.

A dangerous man he may be, the damage he'd already done devastating, but he _was_ just another lunatic with a weapon. He wasn't a ghost or a god, and that meant he had to have come from somewhere – he must have a life, or at least a trace of one, somewhere out there. And Felicity was very good at finding people.

The first day, she spent her lunch going to the site of the fire with a stolen CSI uniform and a sense of recklessness she hadn't felt in weeks. Putting on the suit just around the corner, the scratchy white material rubbing against her skin uncomfortably, she pulled the mask she'd also lifted from the Lab at work over her mouth. Tucking her hair into the hood and sliding her glasses in her bag to make herself less recognisable, Felicity tried to walk confidently towards the scene.

"Hi, officers," she greeted, hoping to sound casual as she reached the police cordon line. There were still quite a few people around even a day after the fire, journalists and just normal people hoping to catch a glimpse of the Blue Beetle. Because of the attention, she knew she needed a disguise to get in, hence her geeky get-up. "I was sent from forensics to take some secondary samples from the scene."

"Can I see some identification, miss?"

"Of course," Felicity tried not to panic as she handed over her forged documents, in the plain black holder she'd bought on the way there. It bore a fake name, claiming she was part of the CCPD Forensics Department. It was also very, very illegal, but Felicity figured that since she was only lying to help people, it didn't _really _count. "Here you go."

"Thank you, Miss Borzedec," said the officer who'd inspected her 'identification', using her fake name. He nodded, handing it back to her. "You understand, we have to be careful. All sorts of psychos around these days."

"Tell me about it. Have a good day, officers."

As she was allowed past the yellow tape, Felicity forced herself to walk normally and not skip with pride at her deception until she was in the hallowed bones of the building, out of sight. Once she was, she did a little jump and bit back a cry, almost going to talk through her comm before she realized she didn't have one anymore. She was alone. No Oliver or Diggle to bail her out this time, just herself and what she needed to do.

For the smallest of moments, the cheer in her face died. Felicity remembered she was standing alone in a burnt-out building, trying to catch a super-criminal and help a different vigilante she knew next to nothing about. It was insane.

But it was also the right thing to do.

"Okay, Borzedec," she said aloud to herself, putting her hands on her hips. "If you were a real CSI, where would you start?"

Quickly, Felicity started sifting through the rubble underfoot for something to trace back to the arsonist, pulling out charred metal fragments and broken glass. There were lots of things there that could be useful if she actually knew what she was looking for – blood would be best, something she could extract DNA from. Or a weapon with a serial number, although she doubted any criminal was dumb enough to leave something that important behind.

After nearly half an hour, she was getting desperate. So far, everything was too burned to tell apart and disintegrated beneath her fingers when she tried to lift it, leaving her with nothing but heaps of ash and disappointment. If it wasn't for the suit, Felicity would have pulled her hands through her hair a dozen times in frustration by now, but both the gloves and the hood made that hard. She needed a new plan of attack.

Sighing, Felicity stood straight, surveying the entire building from a particularly high pile of rubble. "C'mon . . . what would Barry do?"

How her friend did this as a _job_ \- all of the time - Felicity had no clue, but after that afternoon, her respect for Barry Allen had doubled. This was hard. She meant that both physically and emotionally; she was fed up of dead ends and searching, body aching from the effort of the unsteady walking and combing through the burnt wreck. Barry must be some kind of saint to do this every day.

She might not have known him for very long, but she felt she knew him well in that time. Barry was . . . dedicated. good. _Simple_.

Simple . . . that was it! She'd spent so much time trying to sort through the rubble, the mess that it was, instead of looking at the parts of the building which still stood first.

"Why do I over-complicate _everything_?!" She questioned herself out loud as she scrambled towards the north-east corner of the building, which had only been partially destroyed by the fire. By the time she arrived, Felicity was almost laughing.

So sure she would find something now, Felicity threw herself into the work for twenty minutes before she found something – on a metal doorframe, there was a thick, black scorch mark that was different from the others. The way it was angled and the shadow of an arm around it told her that this was made by Firefist himself – maybe the Beetle had knocked him into the wall during their fight?

Either way, Felicity saw what she was looking for a moment later. Skin. Burnt onto the metal.

_Perfect_.

* * *

All she had to do once she'd extracted the DNA was match it to someone.

The data mining programme she'd written years ago for the Foundry did most of the work for her. All Felicity had to do was point it in the right direction: she checked the criminal databases first and came up with nothing, then ARGUS, then Black Gate Prison.

It wasn't until she checked the city's fire department records that Felicity found her match: a dead man.

Frowning, she clicked the record the computer had flagged, an almost perfect match to a lab worker who had died in an accident months before. When she read more, however, it started to make perfect sense – the man had died in a fire, and his body had never been recovered.

Lyle Byrnes. He was their incendiary man, then.

"Now all that's left to find is this so called Blue Beetle . . ."

* * *

In his flying machine that he used to watch over the city, affectionately named 'The Bug' by him and anyone in on his secret, the Blue Beetle was having a stressful day until he received an email on The Bug's server. He had wanted his re-appearance to be a success so badly, but so far all he'd done was let the bad guy get away and almost die in a fire. Way to go.

Tiredly, he removed the goggles of his helmet to drag a hand across his tired eyes, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. It had been one hell of a day.

At the sudden beeping, he jumped so badly he fell out of his seat; Blue Beetle jumped to his feet sharpish and looked around to check no one had seen him, which was completely irrational as he was flying above the city in a cloaked plane. Still, he felt like an ass, so was abashed as he clicked on the message that had come through, his confusion turning to worry as he read:

**_Dear Mr. Beetle,_**

**_Don't worry; I don't know who you are. I have some experience with secret identities and I know how important they are. But I found the signal from your ship so I could send you this message. _**

**_The man you're looking for – 'Firefist' – is Lyle Byrnes. _**

**_I found his skin at the scene, and have attached the report filed on him as a missing person. What you do with this information is up to you. But for what it's worth, trying to help and failing is better than not trying at all. I'd know._**

**_Good Luck. _**

**_A Friend._**

"What. The. Hell." Blue Beetle said, jaw slack. This was impossible. Nobody could access The Bug's security and send a message that easily – he'd encrypted it twelve ways to Sunday, and he was a genius. No one could have done this. No one.

_Well, except . . . _

"No," he said aloud, cutting off his thoughts. "No way. It's not her. But I do have to find whoever this is . . . and who Lyle Byrnes is."

Reluctantly, he opened the file and began investigating the tip, mind still trying to figure out how someone managed to get a message to The Bug. A hundred possibilities buzzed around his mind, taking away from his concentration and making it all a lot harder. To stop the inevitable headache, he took some painkillers and set to work searching across the city for Lyle Byrnes.

* * *

A day later, Felicity woke up to a news broadcast. It was late, nearly midnight, and she had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Ted to come home. He had said he was going to be back late, working on some new obsession project in his office and unavailable every time she had tried to speak to him that day. A little worried, she had decided to stay up and wait for him to come home.

Blinking blearily, her attention was drawn to the TV in front of her as she sat up slowly, turning it up when she saw the headline.

**'Blue Beetle captures Firefist.'**

"Good for him," Felicity smiled genuinely as she watched the footage playing on screen, a blurry phone-filmed video of two figures fighting in a building as it was set on fire. After a few minutes it switched to the exterior of the building now, currently being put out by a firecrew. The same blonde reporter stepped into the frame a second later.

"Chicago's favourite hero has made another appearance tonight, this time confronting the criminal calling himself Firefist here at the opening of the Chicago Museum of Firefighting. Although the building has sustained some damage, no lives were lost in the incident, and 'Firefist' A.K.A Lyle Byrnes, assumed dead scientist, was arrested on the scene. I have sources telling me he will be receiving medical treatment for scar tissue before being moved for psychiatric evaluation."

Felicity's smiled widened at that, having been troubled by the report she had read. Mr. Byrnes needed help, not prison, and she was glad to hear he would be treated properly. Tucking her knees up to her chest, she tried to watch the rest of the report.

When the Blue Beetle himself literally dropped into the frame, releasing some sort of ladder with his left hand as he dropped down next to the reporter to great noise, he held up a hand for silence. Shocked, Felicity took her first real look at him, trying not to giggle at his costume. It was a completely unthreatening look, yellow goggles over a blue skin-tight suit. But maybe that was what _his_ city needed – a hero it could recognise, one it could hold out hope for, not a shadow to instil fear. Still, it was a little funny.

If Oliver was Robin Hood, this guy was Barney the Dinosaur.

When it was quiet, and now with a dozen microphones under his nose, the Beetle spoke and Felicity held her breath. Talking to the public, gaining their trust – this guy was all aboard the hero-train. She wanted to know what he had to say, too. To see if she could get a measure of him; actions might make the man, but words showed where they stood.

"Hi," he said, looking awkward as he gave a little wave towards the camera. "Fortunately, Firefist was detained without any casualties today. It's a good result all around; I hope Mr. Byrne can get the help he needs now."

"Are you back for good?" the blonde reported demanded, "What will you do now?"

"Right now, I'm looking forward to getting some sleep – I'm going to ache in the morning," Blue Beetle laughed, met by the titters of the journalists surrounding him. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I couldn't have done it alone, though. I'm lucky to have such good _friend_s."

He looked straight into the camera as he spoke then, and Felicity knew that message was for her.

Rocking back on her heels, she let out a small laugh as she got up to turn the TV off, practically skipping to the window. On the floor-to-ceiling skyline, she could see a pillar of smoke from the fire. Absurd as it was, that ashen haze gave her hope. She could do this: help when she can, maybe save lives, no attachment. The simple way.

When the door opened behind her ten minutes later, still standing mesmerised at the city lights and dying embers, Felicity squeaked and skidded a few metres on her socks trying to turn around. The room was dark aside from the overspill light from outside, but a familiar curly haired silhouette stood in the doorway. Ted flicked on the switch a second later.

"Felicity?" he frowned, dropping a sports bag just inside the door and walking towards her. "What are you still doing up? I thought you came home hours ago."

"_Home_," she replied, still grinning like an idiot. Usually, she might be embarrassed of the baby blue vest and bottoms she wore as pyjamas, but as it was, she was warm and happy. "I think it is, finally."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm really, really fine," Felicity answered, walking over to him. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around his middle and hugged him, elation making her feel high and floaty. "Thank you, Ted. I haven't said it enough, but thank you for this."

". . . it's fine, really." He let out a laugh of his own, letting his arm fall lazily on her back for a moment before she let him go. "What's got you in such a good mood, anyhow? Not that I'm complaining, it's just nice to see you so happy."

"Just something I saw on the news."

"Oh?"

"That Blue Beetle guy beat the fire guy," Felicity replied casually, trying not to sound like she knew the facts of the case clearly. She pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, "it's just a good story. Good guy beats bad guy, the city is saved and the people of Chicago can once again rest easy." She chirped happily, putting on a voice for the final part before shrugging. "After Starling, it's nice to hear some _good_ news for a change. Instead of Earthquake machines and maniacs, the city is actually safe."

Ted shook his head at her fondly, "Don't you think all this vigilante stuff is . . . I don't know – stupid? Dangerous?"

As he went into the kitchen, she followed him, thinking before she spoke. "No, I don't. Dangerous, sure okay, I'll give you that – but it's not stupid. It's brave."

"That's a fine line to walk."

"But someone has to," Felicity replied, brow creasing. She jumped onto the counter as he began to pull things out of the fridge, swinging her legs over the side. "I think that the world isn't the way it used to be, there are more dangerous people in it, and they're not going away. The police and the law isn't enough anymore. But the thing is . . . people will fight for themselves, cities will save themselves – but they need something or someone to kickstart it."

Ted snickered, "With a cape and goggles?"

"If that's what it takes. Hope is a powerful thing, Teddy. Give people something to believe in, and they'll wave that banner and stand by it until the end."

"Cute," he said. Putting a collection of microwavable foods by her side on the countertop, he sent her a grin. "Nuke these for me, and we'll have a midnight picnic on the roof. I need a break – but I need a shower more. I'll be five minutes."

Rolling her eyes as he ran off, Felicity jumped down and began putting things in the microwave, half paying attention as they cooked. Noticing Ted's bag was still on the floor, she walked over and grabbed it, intending to drop it on his bed, but paused when she noticed a stain on the floor where it had lain.

Crouching, Felicity touched the grey stain. Her fingers came away to a powdery substance, which she rolled between them before sniffing – ash. Ted had been to the scene of the fire! Snorting, Felicity got to her feet and dragged the heavy duffel to Ted's room, turning to leave just as he walked back in with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Jeez, Felicity! Give a guy a warning, would ya?"

She flicked her hair, hiding a smirk, "Just bringing in your bag, _liar_."

"Liar?" he blinked confusedly. "What did I do?"

"There was ash on your bag when I moved it; I know you went to the scene of the fire," Felicity accused, taking another step closer with a finger pointed in his direction. For a moment, Ted looked unreasonably panicked before she laughed, "Admit it – you like the Beetle!"

". . . I never said I didn't," Ted claimed after a second, but turned away quickly to grab some clothes from his dresser so his face was hidden. "I just wondered why _you_ seemed to like the guy so much. Now, let me get dressed and go grab some champagne flutes. I'll meet you on the roof."

* * *

The roof of Ted's building was really, really nice, Felicity decided as she waited for him. The roof itself was concrete and completely ordinary - but the view was amazing. They could see Kord Industries on the shore of Lake Michigan, the rest of the city glowing around them in a billion lights, the purple hue of the sky still holding a single like of smoke, drifting slowly across the city towards the lake.

It was cool out, but after the warm city days, it was a welcome relief. Ditching her shoes, Felicity sat on top of a heating duct on top of the roof, not on the ledge or likely to fall, but high enough to see over the wall around the edge of the building, letting her bare feet touch the breeze. Plus, there was more than enough room up there for Ted and all his food.

"Hey," she greeted when he walked out onto the roof below her. "Up here."

Handing her up the basket, Ted jumped gracefully onto the top of the duct, ever the former athlete; he too had opted for pyjamas: grey shirt and blue trousers hanging off his frame. They looked quite the pair, sitting on the roof with a picnic basket between them and the two full champagne flutes, one of which he passed to Felicity.

"I, er, I don't really feel like drinking tonight," she admitted.

"Me neither," he grinned. "it's just apple juice."

"Oh," Felicity took the glass, raising it towards him. "To home."

His smile was brighter than all of the city, matched only by her own. "To home."

* * *

**A/N: see, I updated! weekly updates stand a chance now. Since I'm guessing most people reading this are Arrow fans and not Blue Beetle fans, I should probably say that this is based around the first issue of Blue Beetle from '86 - 'Firefist' is a real DC Villain. Although in canon, he is actually killed, but I never liked that ending so he lives in my version. Ted's costume also makes me laugh a lot, and oh yes, 'The Bug' is a thing. Therefore, full disclaimer: I don't own any Blue Beetle characters in this story. Or Arrow ones, for that matter. Back to Starling for a bit next chapter, review with any characters from back home you'd particularly like to see Ted or Felicity interacting with!**


	10. In Memoriam

** 'In Memoriam'**

Moira Queen died on a Thursday – but Felicity Smoak never learned of it until Friday morning.

"No," she breathed. Running over to the newspaper stand she was passing with Ted at her side, looking confused as he followed her, she snatched up the paper and read the headline. Her eyes scanned the words, mind reeling. "Oh, God. No."

"What is it?" Ted asked, gently taking the paper from her hand, his other palm resting reassuringly on her back. She didn't see his face as he read the headline; eyes scanning before they were filled with dismay as he sighed.

"I – I can't, she can't be-"

"Shhhh," Ted shushed her as Felicity felt huge tears fall down her face. He pulled her close and hugged her, feeling Felicity shake beneath him. "I'm sorry."

Felicity took huge breaths to regain her composure. For a moment, she wondered why on Earth she was crying – Moira had hated her. Then she realized that it wasn't the Queen matriarch she was crying for.

It was Oliver. He would be broken by this.

Slowly, Felicity took a step back. Lifting her eyes to Ted's she tried to communicate how important this was to her with a look, hand still wrapped up in his shirt sleeve and unlikely to let go anytime soon. "Ted – I have to g-go back. I have to be there for Oliver, to see him-"

"Okay," he answered immediately. Felicity breathed in relief; she should have known Ted would understand. He nodded to her, "I'll sort it out. Let's get to the office, and I promise we'll be in Starling by nightfall."

"We?"

"You really think that I'd leave you alone right now?" Ted asked, raising an eyebrow. He put an arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the Kord Building. "I'm going with you. I understand you need to go back, but you don't have to go alone."

Felicity just rested her head on his shoulder gratefully as they walked. She didn't trust herself to speak.

* * *

Diggle waited impatiently, although no one would be able to tell. He stood still and stoically at the airport, waiting for Kord's private charter to arrive. Felicity had called him earlier, telling him she was already on her way and desperately trying to ask what had happened without really asking; obviously she hadn't been alone, so she couldn't mention the Arrow.

He knew this was a bad idea. As happy as he was to see her, Felicity was in danger for even stepping foot in Starling, especially with Slade on a war path. Diggle understood why she had come – she was their friend, and had travelled all this way to remind Oliver of that, which might just be what he needed right now after what he had experienced, although Diggle worried things might not go smoothly.

All those thoughts were driven from his mind as he saw her appear from the crowds. Felicity was the same as ever, a welcome sight in times like these, but the sadness on her face was new. Her cheeks were red from crying, her eyes raw but currently dry.

She hugged him fiercely before he could even open his mouth to greet her.

"Digg," she breathed in his ear as soon as her arms locked around his neck. She paused for a minute. "I'm so sorry - I should have been there."

"This isn't your fault, Felicity," Diggle replied, taking a step back. He kept a hand on her shoulder as he spoke, "Don't ever think that, okay, not even for a second. This is no one's fault but Wilson's."

"But-"

"You couldn't have done anything," he said, a sad edge to his voice. Seeing Felicity again, he could understand why Oliver made the choice he did for the first time – just imagining something like that happening to her was unthinkable. He needed to protect her, determined not to fail Oliver again. "None of us could. We tried, but . . ."

Felicity blinked away tears. "John, no. If this wasn't my fault, it wasn't yours either. You said it – Slade. He's the one to blame for this."

"Try telling Oliver that," Diggle said humourlessly.

"That's exactly what I came back to do."

As he opened his mouth to reply, Diggle noticed the man approaching them, wheeling two suitcases. He recognised it as Ted Kord immediately, after Oliver had made them all recognise the man's face and know all about him in case anything ever happened to Felicity, but he hadn't expected Kord to be here.

The man looked serious, the obvious line of worry creasing his brow only partly concealed by floppy brown hair as he grew closer. When he stopped next to Felicity, he nodded, extending a hand.

"You must be John Diggle. I've heard a lot about you."

"Yeah," Diggle took the hand and shook it. "You too, Mr. Kord."

"Just Ted. And I'm very sorry about your loss."

Diggle let go of the hand, not bothering to point out that the loss wasn't exactly 'his'. It didn't matter. The sentiment was genuine, that much was clear, so he didn't see the point in dismissing Ted's sympathy. With a nod of understanding, he took one of the bags from the other man, and all three of them walked out of the airport together.

* * *

Oliver was sitting in the Foundry on the day of his mother's funeral, knees tucked up to his chest and trying to remember how to breathe. It wasn't working. With every breath desperately sucked in, his lungs inflated and deflated, but it wasn't enough, his head was pounding, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe –

"Oliver?"

He registered the voice, just barely, but it didn't mean anything to him as he put his arms tighter around his legs, putting his head atop his knees. He couldn't breathe and it was too light, he couldn't do this. He couldn't face it. He couldn't – he couldn't bury her.

"Oliver, listen to me!"

The voice was more insistent now, and accompanied by a hand on his arm. It felt like a woman's, small and delicate, but the voice wasn't Sara's. . . who?

Still breathing in ragged breaths, chest heaving like that of an angry animal, Oliver looked up to see a familiar face clouding his vision, framed spectacles and a shade of lipstick he'd recognise anywhere. _Felicity_. Felicity was here. Things would be okay.

When his eyes started to go out of focus, a sharp stinging in his arm brought Oliver back again, Felicity's nails digging into his forearm as she struggled to get him up. Noticing his gaze on her again, she crouched and put a different hand to his face, trying to keep his attention this time.

"Look at me. It's important that you stay with me, okay? Oliver! You need to get up."

"Felicity."

"Yes," she said, like it had been a question and not a prayer. "You can yell at me for being here later, right now you need to move. You're having a panic attack. Get up."

Numbly, he staggered to his feet and followed her to the table, where he sat again. The edges of his vision felt blurry, and everything held a tint too bright, like it wasn't real. This must all be in his head then, Oliver thought; he'd imagined Felicity was there to help him because he couldn't cope on his own. He used to do the same thing on the Island, except then it was Laurel. So much had changed.

If it was a dream, he'd take it. He missed her so much it ached, physical pangs of sickness hitting him whenever Oliver thought about how he had driven her away. No, this was not real: she was not holding his shoulders, her lips forming words indistinguishable.

Felicity was safe far away. Oliver felt his breathing even out, the world coming back into focus as the Felicity in his head fixed him up, making him better again. He allowed himself to fall into the lie, knowing it couldn't be true.

* * *

Ted and Diggle sat in the empty club. When they had arrived, searching for Oliver, Felicity and Diggle had somehow managed to convince the other man to let Felicity go down alone to confront Oliver, claiming he sometimes hid in the basement of the club. It was dangerously close to the truth, almost too close for comfort, but Ted had accepted it with a word of caution to Felicity.

He sat at the bar with Diggle, trying to get a read of the other man. Although Felicity had spoken about him quite a bit, she always seemed to be avoiding something – probably Oliver, he'd wager – when she did. Ted knew that the other man was Felicity's best friend while she was in Starling, and an ex-soldier, but not much else.

"So . . ." Ted started a little awkwardly, habitually rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke, "I was hoping you'd pass my condolences to Oliver, when you see him."

Diggle looked confused, "Why not tell him yourself?"

"When we last met I might've, uh, said some choice words to him about Felicity. Not nice ones," Ted said, feeling abashed. He didn't regret his words, but didn't think his presence would be appreciated right now, so had decided to respectfully keep his distance from Oliver Queen for the time being. "If I were him, I wouldn't want to see me right now. But what happened is a tragedy, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Ted shrugged, taking a sip of the drink Diggle had poured for both of them when they'd sat. The whiskey was strong and burned his throat as he swallowed, the aftertaste warm and exactly what he needed. It was damn cold in that club. When he looked up, Diggle was watching him carefully, but his words were blunt.

"Who'd you lose?"

"I don't understand."

"You've got the look," Diggle explained with a non-commital shrug, "I learned to notice it when I was in Special Forces. People who've lost someone, when they're faced with death – they get this look; you've got it right now. People don't say stuff like that with that look on their face unless they've lost someone. I'd know."

Ted didn't deny anything. "Who'd you-"

"My brother," Diggle answered before he could even get the question out. The sip he took was much larger this time.

Ted made a noise and nodded, drinking also. That was hard, family was always the worst. He didn't say that he was sorry; because he knew how often Diggle must have heard it by now, and how hollow it felt every time. Instead he told as much of the truth as he could.

"A while back – six months ago maybe, I . . . I saw someone I'd come to see as a father die right in front of me," Ted said slowly, not meeting the other man's eye. He couldn't; it had been months since he'd spoken about Dan Garrett's death with anyone. "Felicity doesn't know, so if you could . . ."

"Of course," Diggle answered, picking up on the unspoken question. "It's your secret to tell."

"Thanks. That's why I asked her to come with me, you know?" Ted shrugged; playing it off like it was nothing. He was good at that, but Diggle wasn't fooled, not for a second. "I guess what happened made me realize how important family is, and so when I bumped into her – we used to be like brother and sister, you know? Then we just . . . drifted. But our accident? It was a lucky coincidence, and I'm grateful for it. Having family around again – it's made everything different."

A smile tugged at the corners of Diggle's mouth. Slowly, he raised a glass and tapped it against Ted's both of them draining the liquid in one, almost racing one another. They almost smiled.

Having said what needed to be, they fell into companionable silence as they waited.

* * *

Oliver woke not as he usually did, with a start and racing heart from whatever memory plagued him that night, but gently, eyelids opening to a warm light. He blinked a few times, the strip lights over head turned down a few notches instead of their usually blinding glow. Knowing he was lying on the table in the Foundry, Oliver wondered if he was injured for a second – he didn't remember getting hurt, but why else would he be lying there?

Frown flitting over his face, he rolled a little onto his side to get up and found his answer lying there.

Felicity sat at a chair pushed up to the table, slumped over it her head lying against the table and eyes closed. One hand was underneath her cheek, but the other reached out towards him, lying over his own. Oliver looked down at their hands together in shock. As her breathing was low and even, he knew she was just sleeping, watching over him.

The thought made his stomach rush with an unexpected warmth. The hollowness which had filled him for days was momentarily kept at bay by the affection, odd but not unwelcome. It was better than feeling empty; that had been the most unbearable part of the past few days. His mother was gone and Thea couldn't look at him, and although Diggle and Sara tried, they hadn't been able to make it go away.

This did. Waking up feeling safe, and two hands together, and Oliver felt alive.

An almost-smile ghosted his lips, what might have turned into a grin on better days, but for right then, even the small upturn of his lips was a miracle.

Although he was thankful for it, Oliver's face quickly turned to panic as he sat up fully. Moving his hand away, he clenched it once to shake away the feeling, getting up off the table and standing across from her in stunned silence. Felicity was _there, _so close he could touch her - but she was supposed to be away, she was supposed to be safe – she couldn't be here. She _couldn't _be here.

"Felicity?" he said loudly. The vulnerability in his voice shocked him, so Oliver made sure to control himself as she flinched awake at her name, looking up in confusion until her eyes met his. He must have looked angry, if her reaction said anything. Good. She needed to leave. He asked coldly, "What happened? Why was I asleep?"

She looked guilty for half a second. "I kind of _maybe_ drugged you?"

"_Felicity_-"

"I had to do something! You were having a panic attack and freaking out, you could have hurt yourself!"

Oliver let it drop, throwing his hands in the air and storming away, back facing her for a moment. Then he turned back suddenly, "What are you doing here?"

"I – I heard what happened," Felicity replied, the tears on her voice evident in it's shaking. She slowly sat up in her chair, keeping a hand on the table. "I didn't really think about it. I just knew that you'd need me, so I came."

The words hit Oliver like bullets, and he took a step back. His crafted mask fell again, evaporating with the anger settling in his stomach – and there was that warmth again, so simple yet fierce. For now, he couldn't put a name to it, but he couldn't deny it's existence either. After the way they had left things, he couldn't believe that Felicity had crossed the country to see him.

"You shouldn't be here, Slade -"

"I know." Felicity's face fell, "I know it's dangerous. But Oliver, what happened?"

"He took us. Me and Thea and . . . and Mom," he coughed to remove the lump in his throat, the end of the sentence coming out weakly. There was no chance of sounding strong now. Oliver felt his hands drop limply to his sides, eyes glazing over as he spoke. "He killed her, right in front of me. He-He wanted to make me choose, but Mom she, she stood up and told him to-"

When he broke off, face so broken, Felcity felt like she had been kicked in the chest. After everything he'd been through, Oliver didn't deserve this. "I'm so sorry, Oliver."

"It's not your fault."

"It isn't yours, either," she said softly. "Please tell me that you know that."

When he said nothing, gaze dropping to his feet, she got to her own, but when she tried to walk towards him, Oliver stepped away. Holding out her hands but staying where she was, Felicity went on.

"Listen to me. None of this was your fault, no matter what you think or Slade says. _He_ did this; not you." Felicity grit her teeth seethingly for a moment, and Oliver believed she could fight Slade and win with anger like that. "Slade's problem was that he could never let go of the past – he let what happened on the Island define him. But violence isn't the way to solve anything, killing won't make a difference. This was his choice and you – I'm sorry Oliver, you couldn't stop it."

"The Island-"

"Wasn't your fault either," Felicity said sharply, "And even if it was, murder still isn't the way to solve anything. We have to stop Slade so he can't hurt anyone else."

"No," Oliver shook his head, coming to his senses. It was only then that he realizes his face was wet, swiping away the tears quickly and walking decisively towards her. "I have to do this – you need to leave. If this has taught me anything, it's that I need to keep the people I love away from Slade Wilson."

"I can help!" Felicity argued back, "I know the risks – we've been through this enough! You need my help; it's yours. If Slade wants me dead, I'll be dead wherever I am." Oliver winced at her words, feeling sick again. She was so close. "Don't . . . don't act like you did before. I know you're my friend, it was never a lie. Slade Wilson is a madman, and he _could_ kill you, too."

Oliver closed his eyes. God, he wanted her to stay. He wanted her to make him better and be there when he came back every night, bleeding and tired, and to hear her laugh around like it used to be. But then he pictured her with a sword through her chest, blood dripping from her mouth. Then he thought about how much worse this would be if it ended with her dead. And then, Oliver took a step away.

"You shouldn't have come," he said cruelly, any trace of emotion gone from his voice. "Go home, Felicity. I can handle this."

"Don't do this," Felicity shook her head, tone warning. "Don't you do this to me again."

"What? Tell you the truth?" he stepped forwards, "Even if you were here, my mother would still be dead! What would you have done from behind a computer, huh?"

"I-"

"Nothing. You couldn't change anything."

Felicity's mouth fell open at his words, taking a step away from him. Lip quivering, he could see her forming words on her lips a dozen times and getting nothing out, eyes swimming with unshed tears, burning behind her glasses. At her sides, her hands shook.

It killed him, it hurt so bad Oliver thought he might die there and then and frankly wouldn't be upset about it, but Oliver make himself glare coldly at her and dismissively snort.

"What did you even come for? I told you to go."

Her moth closed then, and he was surprised at her resolve, her face determinedly dry and edging on angry. Head tilting to one side, she seemed to decide something, face throwing out emotions wildly as she spoke, voice wavering as she echoed the words to him.

"There was no choice to make."

Felicity ran out, and Oliver fell to the floor.

* * *

**A/N: You didn't really think any happiness would last for long, did you? The timeline of this fic may follow certain aspects of Arrow s2 such as Moira's death, but the overall storyline with Slade will be different, of course, because Felicity isn't there. If you wanted more of Team Arrow reuniting, be sure to check back next week!**


	11. Blue and Gold

**'Blue and Gold'**

Felicity returned to Chicago rightfully angry.

But instead of wallowing in misery like she did last time or wasting energy punching thing like she felt like doing, she decided to put it to good use in the only way she knew how – computers and kicking criminal butt.

Over the next week, she spent every second not at work on her personal laptop at home, dragging an old bean bag she had found in the back of Ted's closet up to the roof. The connection up there was better, and Felicity knew she needed the quiet right then – although Ted would come up every few hours to bring her food or drinks, face pleading for her to come down but understanding her need for distance. He was good like that.

With her comfortable chair and glass of red wine propped on the wall beside her, Felicity's fingers flew over the keyboard with ease. They remembered her old line of work effortlessly, hacking into traffic camera's and business' shady files without her even having to direct them too. It was easy.

That week, ARGUS, the DEA, the FBI and half a dozen other agencies received anonymous tip offs, all wirelessly sent to them from a mysterious good-doer. The Blue Beetle received one.

* * *

_Terrorist group calling themselves the 'Mad Men' are holding hostages near The Bean. _

Ted jumped at the message showing up on The Bug's screen. He had been napping in the control chair as he cruised over the city, knowing his scanners would pick up on any trouble below. It had been a tough week: after their impromptu trip to Starling City, Felicity had been isolating herself and throwing herself into her work. He worried about her, but Ted didn't know what to do.

She didn't need him to fix her: he knew that for damn sure. Felicity would work out whatever was making her heart heavy on her own, but he wished he knew how to make it easier for her, or just how to be there better.

As it stood, he was giving her space by spending all of his time above the clouds.

"God damn," he breathed, reading over the message. After the last communication, he had been worried about his identity so had added to The Bug's security so was surprised to see it hacked again, leaning back in his seat. "Who the hell _are_ you?"

Then he actually read the message and moved like he'd been electrocuted, reaching for the controls and turning The Bug around, "Shit."

_Good choice, _the message came through as soon as he started moving, displayed on the screen in front of the city as he flew over it. _They have some kind of meta-human abilities; they seem to be moving with extraordinary speed and strength. You'll need to sedate them to keep them down, but their guns don't look modified._

Ted blinked. Meta-human? What did _that_ mean?

_There are six of them, and half a dozen hostages. The south-west corner is your best bet of getting in unannounced. _

Turning on the ships camouflage, he hovered above the square overlooking the Bean and prepared to drop down the ladder from the Bug's belly. Thanks to the mysterious 'friend', he knew the number of assailants and where to head in – it was more than he usually had going into a situation like this.

He landed in an alley on the south-west corner of the square, looking around. "Thank you, whoever you are."

* * *

Ted got home to see coverage of the 'Blue Beetle' taking in the Mad Men playing on TV. Felicity stood in front of it, her hopeful smile back on her face. His heart swelled at the sight.

Walking like he wasn't bruised from head-to-toe, Ted crossed the room and slung an arm around her shoulder.

"How is it I always miss all the excitement?"

"Just lucky like that, I suppose," Felicity answered, leaning into it. She still smiled fiercely, not noticing Ted's snort at the comment. "I'm sorry for being so . . . distracted recently. I've just been trying to work some stuff out. You know, figure out where I stand now."

"You don't have to apologise to me," he replied. They watched the news for a moment longer. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Work this . . . _stuff_, out?"

"Yeah. I think I have a new way now."

* * *

Two weeks later, Blue Beetle got another tip off from the mysterious friend – but this time through a distorted voice speaking out of The Bug's console and causing him to damn near crash the thing into the closest building.

"_Beetle?_"

Ted had his pride. If he didn't he might admit that he yelped and jerked the controls, only his own stabilising technology avoiding a crash. At least he didn't fall out of the chair this time.

Quickly, he picked up his own voice distortion tool and held it to his lips, pressing a few keys to return to communication, accepting the open line the voice had sent him. He felt almost like a spy with a walkie-talkie, barely stifling a giggle at that thought.

"I don't know who you are – but how in the hell did you manage to get this signal?!"

"_You're welcome_," the Voice replied, and he could have sworn there was a smirk in it. "_For helping you, I mean, not hacking your super-secret Beetle mobile_."

Ted rolled his eyes, "I prefer 'The Bug'."

"_That's cute. And I actually took the liberty of adding some extra firewalls and facial recognition software to 'The Bug's' mainframe, so_ . . ."

"Do you expect a thank you?" Ted asked. He sat back more comfortably in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He didn't think the voice was a threat, but he was still cautious – his identity was on the line, and he had people to protect. "I'm at a disadvantage, you see. You know who _I_ am, but to me, you're just a voice."

"_I don't know who you are. Not under the mask, anyway – or goggles, in your case_," The Voice clarified quickly. There was something vaguely familiar about the way it spoke, the patterns of it's speech – but the voice itself was too distorted to place. "_All I know is that you're trying to help people. And all you need to know about me is that so am I_."

"So you figure we might as well do it together?"

"_No. But if I have information that I think could help, I'll send it your way. I tried being more involved before and it . . . well, it didn't work out. But I still believe in that ideal, that people will fight for themselves – but they need that beacon of hope first. You could be that."_

"That's a lot of faith to have in a stranger."

The Voice laughed, which he didn't understand. "_I'll be in touch, Beetle."_

"Wait!" Ted called, "What do I call you?"

"_Stick with a friend, for now. I'll let you know if I come up with something more than that_."

The line went dead, leaving Ted wondering if he had just gained a 'friend' or not. There were a lot of things he worried about these days, and he didn't like having a faceless figure so close to uncovering the truth of who he was. At the very least, he had gained an ally.

That was better than doing this alone.

* * *

"_You've got a tail on your six_," Friend said over the comms, "_Take the next left, and there's an alcove in the wall. Duck in it then tail back._"

Ted didn't even check behind him. After two months working with them, from information exchanges to conversations in The Bug, eventually setting up a comm system between them three weeks back, he trusted his new 'Friend'. Whoever it was, they had saved his neck a lot of times, and he trusted them without hesitation.

He took the left sharply and side-stepped into the dark shadows, disappearing into the wall silently. Without knowing it was there, he would never have even noticed the alcove among the wreckage.

Ted's pursuers ran straight past him. Laughing a little at it, he kept his breath quiet and stood there for a few minutes, listening. No one else seemed to be following.

_"You're clear_," the Friend confirmed. Even with their voice still distorted, they sounded stressed. "_You need to evacuate this time, Beetle. I know you want to get these guys – I do, too. But not tonight_."

Ted shook his head, fingers clenching around his newest toy – an air compressor gun. It shot a blast strong enough to throw people back and even render them unconscious, and kept his conscious clean of killing. "I'm not leaving."

"_Beetle, don't be stupid_-"

"That's my middle name, fella," he laughed back, slipping out into the corridor. Keeping his back to the wall, Ted glanced around the corner before crossing the corridor, making his way further into the complex. "If I don't make it out, it's on you to tell the cops about these guys. We'll get them one way or another."

"_You're getting out! Just leave it for tonight, please_."

Their voice was so pleading, Ted almost stopped. It was hard to tell anything about his elusive benefactor, but he could tell when they were getting annoyed or scared easily these days – they spoke more quickly, babbling almost, and that edge was in their tone now alongside a new emotion: desperation.

He hadn't heard that one before. It was to be expected, but shocking all the same – they cared. After speaking almost daily for two months, it was hard not to. They joked while Ted was on missions, the voice in his ear soothing and putting him at ease when before he could have been terrified. They argued sometimes, too.

They were a friend in more than name, now.

"Listen, I was thinking," he said, stalling for time. He hadn't stopped yet, they both knew it; 'Friend' had a knack for hacking cameras to watch his back. "What about Big Brother?"

_"What_?"

"For your name," Ted clarified with a laugh at their confusion. If anything, he could diffuse a situation with words better than anyone else. "You know, 'always watching' and all that jazz. It fits."

On the comm, there was a laugh; quiet and tinged with sadness, but undeniably there. It was something he had heard a few times now, a sound which could bring light to any darkness. He was starting to enjoy it.

"_Big Sister is more accurate_," 'Friend' confirmed. And that was news. They were a woman, then. "_And you do realise that you would have to call be 'BS' for short, right? Might not work out so well_."

"You see, this is why I need you. Always pointing out the flaws in my dumbass plans."

"_Which is what I'm trying to do now_," she pleaded. Although Ted had been aware of voices down the hall getting louder as he continued to move through the compound, he paused as she spoke this time and ducked into an air vent. Crouching, he listened and waited. "_There are too many of them for you to take out alone. Come back another day, I – I know people. People like you, who can help."_

"You work with other masks?" Ted answered, leaning hard against the metal. His laugh was breathless. "Now I'm just hurt, sister."

She was quiet for so long that Ted had opened his mouth to ask if she was okay when his 'Friend' finally answered. "_I used to – work with them, I mean – but not anymore. We . . . had a disagreement. I said I was done with all of this_-"

"Then why help me?"

"_Because I knew I could. That was a responsibility of mine, not anyone else's. I could help people, save lives – and I needed you to do that_." She took a sudden breath, as if steadying herself. "_That person I used to work with – I cared about them a lot, but it came to a point where I couldn't tell the mask from the man. That's why I tried to be hands-off with you; I didn't want to care again. But I don't want you to die, Beetle. Please_."

It was Ted's turn to pause. Crouched in the cramped air vent, the heat alone causing sweat to bead on his forehead and make his goggles itch, he thought about it. He had few friends he could actually count on, and one of them was the voice on the other end of the transmission.

"Alright," he agreed, surrendering. "But if seeing those friends again is too painful, we'll find another way."

"_I'm not calling him_," she responded in an instant, the relief in her voice singing through. "_I'm calling some of his associates. My friends_."

"Roger that, then." Ted groaned, thinking about the compound he still had to sneak through to get out of this mess. "Beetle out."

* * *

When a blonde chick in black and a kid in red showed up two days later at the compound Ted was scoping out again, he jumped back in surprise. They had arrived without him noticing, he was so focused on trying to memorise the rotation of the guards. From the top of the hill where he crouched with a pair of high-tech binoculars he'd tricked out, Ted looked down on what looked like a series of warehouses on the outskirts of the city below – but he knew what was really inside.

Thankful his face was covered by his goggles, Ted looked the two new people up and down.

"What, was there a sale at the leather store?"

"Play nice, Beetle," 'Friend' said in his ear. From the looks on the newcomer's faces, they were patched into the same comm link and could hear her too. "These are my associates, Black Canary and Arsenal. They're here to help you."

"And you can't exactly talk, lycra boy," Arsenal added, the kid beneath the mask smirking as he looked over. His height and attitude gave him away as being just a kid straight away.

Ted did a stock check of them both, as he was sure they were doing to him. A male and a female, both younger than him – the boy considerably more so, the woman only by a few years; Arsenal had a bow and arrow and the Black Canary carried an assortment of weapons on her person, but held a Bo Staff in her hands.

They were seasoned, more than he was, at least. They had experience. In fact, Ted was sure he'd heard about them on the news.

"You're from Star City," he commented. Ted's regard for them was lifted when he realised they worked with the Arrow, the guy who had saved Felicity – so they were good in his books. "Okay. This could work. Are they filled in?"

"_Pretty much_," 'Friend' replied in his ear. "_Do you have a play for this_?"

"Go in hard, take out their communications before they even know we're there. If we can do the entire thing undetected, that would be the best case scenario – but if we're discovered, our first call is to rescue civilians, not make arrests." Ted laid out his plan calmly, looking to see if the other vigilante's would let him take point on this. It was important to him; this case was personal now. They nodded when he finished, seemingly accepting his lead without comment. "I've been watching for a few days – I think I have the guard's rotation down."

"Good," Black Canary answered with the most dangerous smile he had ever seen. "Then let's go – or were you planning on talking all night?"

"_Guys_-"

"We're only messing, Fe-friend," Arsenal laughed, but he caught himself at the end of the sentence, as if he was going to say something else. Ted realised then that these people knew exactly who the voice on the other end of the line was, and felt a pang of betrayal at the thought. The kid reached back and touched the end of his quiver until he found an arrowhead he was satisfied with, lining up a green-tipped arrow. "Chill. We've done this a hundred times with your help, remember?"

"_Yeah_." For the first time, Ted heard nostalgia in the voice on the end of the line. There was a deeply rooted sadness in it; again, he felt out of the loop. "_I do, Arsenal. Let's do it again with no problems_."

The kid nodded, looking eager to go. "Damn right."

"After you, Bug Boy," the Black Canary added, turning to their point of entry – the roof of the building across from them. They just had to take out the guards posted there first; all eight of them armed. Easy.

Ted jumped off the edge of the building, "Follow me."

* * *

Two weeks after that, Ted made a decision. He had been thinking about it ever since meeting Black Canary and Arsenal; they had taken out a trafficking ring together with surprisingly good teamwork, working as a unit with their guiding voice with them all of the way.

But he was still the odd man out.

The two other heroes left to meet her afterwards. Ted had known it; he wanted to go with them but held his tongue. His Friend has asked for anonymity and he respected that. But after hearing the way they joked about with her, their closeness clear from just a few hours on the comms together, he wanted to be a part of that too.

The 'Friend' had become more than just an empty voice or an informant. And he wanted a team. A partner.

On the day it happened, he was sitting in The Bug with nothing to do. It was a sunny Sunday, with just enough breeze to make it bearable, boats gliding on the shore of Lake Michigan and just the kind of day that made even the criminals of the city too lazy to act. It was a brief but appreciated reprieve.

He sat with his feet on the dash and smiled at the scene below him. "I wish there were more days like today."

"_Boring_? _Quiet?Too warm to bear?_"

"Peaceful," Ted corrected, not unkindly. "Days like this are what I live for, you know? If this were every day, I'd pack it all up in a heartbeat: the mask, the fighting – The Bug, even."

"_Why do you do this_?" Friend asked curiously. "_You never said_."

Images of blood and dust filling his eyes, the place collapsing around him as the light left the eyes of a friend passed so fiercely over Ted's eyes for a second that his breath caught. Blinking them away, he shook his head and answered shakily, "I promised a friend I would look after the city. That I would take the name and make it a legacy."

"_I don't understand_ . . ."

"I'm not the first Blue Beetle. There was one before me – Firefist was my first case, actually. Before that, the name belonged to a good friend of mine."

"_What happened to him_?"

Although tears filled his eyes, Ted kept his voice steady as he answered. "He died."

"_Oh_," A beat. "_I'm sorry. But I know how that sounds, and I've lost friends in the same way so I know it doesn't make any difference. Eventually you get tired of hearing it. I understand, is probably the best thing for me to say. Or at least I hope it is_."

"It definitely is," Ted let out a small laugh. "It's hard to forget how much relief something as simple as someone understanding all of this is. Before . . . before you, I was doing this alone and honestly – I didn't have a clue what I was doing half of the time. Thank you for that."

"_You don't have to thank me. You're the one who does all the hero-ing_!"

He waited, trying to think of an excuse not to say it. But his mind was blank and his lips formed the words before he could contain them, pushing them past his teeth and leaving them hanging heavily in the air. "I want to meet."

At the silence his request was met by, Ted felt his stomach plunge twenty storeys. Immediately he tried to explain, "I _trust_ you, okay? You've helped me and I'm so grateful for that. I trust you with my identity, and I'd like it if we could meet and I'll show you where I work – hell, you can come for a ride in The Bug and-"

"_No_," the voice said quietly. For a moment, Ted prayed he had misheard her, but his hopes were dashed. "_I told you from the beginning, this only works if I don't get attached. I'll admit: I failed on that one. But I can't do all that again_."

"After everything we've been through, you still don't trust me?"

"_It's not that I don't trust you_," she replied. "_I **can't**. If you don't accept that . . . we can't continue_."

"So that's it?" Ted asked, feeling anger brew quickly in his veins. He sat up straight in his chair, not used to the bitterness. None of this sat with him right. "I keep putting my life in the hands of someone I've never even met, I keep pretending to myself that I'm not alone and that I have a _'Friend'_" he spat the last word out bitterly, "– or you leave?"

She didn't answer for a second, but when she did, it was with a restrained, forced tone. "_Yes_."

"Fine," Ted replied coldly. "But if you really don't want to be my friend, stop pretending. Enough talking and joking like we are. You don't get to have it both ways, that's not fair – good day."

He cut off the link, severing the connection with a brutality he had not shown to her before. This was not how Ted had wanted the conversation to go – he had thought that after all this time, after they had grown to trust one another, especially after he learned she had worked with others closely, that she trusted them – he just thought he could have a real person to hold on to in all this madness. The loneliness was hard to bear sometimes.

All Ted had wanted was a real friend.

Even as enraged tears slipped down his cheeks, a thought struck Ted and he sat up in his seat. He did have a friend. A busy one, sure, but there was one person he trusted with this, someone he knew he could turn to.

Face taking on a smile and glint of mischief, Ted made a call.

* * *

Felicity was having what she would call an average day. For most people, it would be straight up 'rough day' material, but she had learned to expand her boundaries after being literally shot and terrorised on a daily basis.

It had been three days since her – or should she say 'Friends' – argument with the Blue Beetle. Every time she thought about it, Felicity felt sick and tired. The guy had sounded desperate. She did understand how tough a gig it was, and how much just one ally could help . . . but she couldn't do it again.

Or at least that's what she told herself.

It would have been easy to say yes and trust him. The Beetle was nothing like Oliver – even on serious missions, he kept his air of humour, never once becoming dark, only more focused. He was a good man, and she had come to think of him as a friend for the months they had worked together.

But after everything that went down with Oliver and the Arrow, it was hard for her to trust anyone. Especially anyone who wore a mask.

She felt shitty, going down to the apartment that night and just hugging Ted when he got home; putting every piece of comfort she needed into the embrace. He held her back just as tightly, like he needed it just as badly as she did, and they had taken the next day off and just gone down to the lake and hung out like the old days. Funnily, it made things better, if only for a while.

With the Beetle unavailable ever since, she had fallen back to old habits and spent time with her roommate 24/7. The last few months she had been getting more independent at work and home, with her new job as the Beetle's eyes in the sky, so she had gotten slightly out of touch with her actual friend and regretted that a little, although Ted seemed the same as ever, if a little worn down by something.

She was going to his office for lunch when she heard something strange coming from behind the door: laughter.

_Ted's_ laughter, lighter than she had heard it recently. It echoed from underneath the door into the room where Angie worked, loud and brash and filled with an immense relief. He had always laughed in an odd way, it was one of his most defining traits, but it took a lot to get Ted to laugh like _this_. Beside it, there was another laugh, matching his in volume and spirit. It was a man's; deeper in tone, but there was a warmth behind it.

Puzzled, Felicity knocked once before entering. She pushed the door open to see Ted stand in front of his desk, still bent over with laughter, and a strange blonde man with a hand on Ted's back, two peas in a pod. At her friend's joy, Felicity felt her own lips twitch up, being at all jealous not even crossing her mind – why should she be? Anyone who could make Ted laugh like that was a good person in her books.

As she crossed the room, Ted straightened and beamed in her direction. "I was just about to call you!"

"It's no bother," Felicity confirmed, still unsure of herself as she make her way over. When she stopped a foot away, Ted put one hand on her arm and one on the other man's grinning and looking between them blissfully. The connection seemed odd to Felicity, but she smiled unawares anyway.

"I've heard a lot about you," the blonde man grinned in a cheesy fashion, extending a hand. "You must be the famous Felicity Smoak."

She took it and shook cautiously. "Well if Ted's been telling stories, I wouldn't trust any of it," she said. It was a joke, and the other man laughed again. "I'm sorry – I didn't catch _your_ name?"

"This is my buddy B-Mikey," Ted explained quickly. "He might be sticking around town for a little while. You don't mind if he crashes, do you?"

"Er, no of course not," Felicity said. Something about the meeting didn't seem real, like a desert mirage or lucid dream. She turned to the blonde, "I'm guessing 'Mickey' is short for Michael?"

"It's just one of my nicknames," the man agreed, meeting her eye in an odd way. He nodded. "My name is Michael Jon Carter, and I'm sure we'll be the best of friends."

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully you all know who MJC is. Old school Blue&amp;Gold, but also I guess Felicity is the 'Gold' too because of her hair?**


	12. A moment you'll never remember

**'A moment you'll never remember'**

Felicity didn't hear from the Blue Beetle for over three weeks after that. She _saw_ him plenty – on the news taking down drug cartels and stopping robberies, plastered-on grin never once leaving his face. Every time, she tried to contact him on his comm or in The Bug.

Every time she was met with silence.

_"Hey, its, uh – it's 'Friend'. I noticed there was some police chatter about you being involved in a collision, so check in. Let me know you're , well, alive."_

_"Beetle, there's a nanocloud heading for the city. I'm sending you the specs and uploading a virus that will shortcircuit them to your mainframe, but I'll need to talk you through initialising it. . . . Beetle? . . . You have to answer me! Beetle!"_

_"Not listening to me is stupid, you know. I'm still trying to help you."_

_"Beetle . . . please."_

In those days, Felicity missed her old team so fiercely she ached; an indescribable hole inside of her. It was like nothing she had ever felt, the absence of them as she sat alone in her office like she was missing a part of herself – she longed to hear Sara laughing, or Roy arguing about something pointless. She would probably actually kill a man to hug Diggle right then.

And she'd _die_ to hear Oliver's voice.

No matter what went down between them, no matter what disagreements they had – he never left her waiting. He answered when she called, told her he was safe and saved her, and had never let her down in that respect. It was her safety net; there were times when only his voice could pull her out of a panic, his tone steady and sure even when the world was falling apart.

She missed that. She missed _him_, even though it hurt to admit that – but it was less now than it had been a few months ago. The rawness of the moment was gone: the anger had subsided, the pain dulled, and Felicity was at the point where she could think of him and not feel like her heart had been torn out.

The point of grieving was to heal, and if that was true – she was ready to move on with her life.

* * *

When the Beetle was caught in the middle of an armed shoot-out, police one side and weapon's dealers the other, Felicity finally grew tired of the his adolescence. The weapon's being carried was electronic-based and could take out everything technological in a five-block radius. Ergo, the Beetle was way out of his league. He needed her, but was still being too stubborn to talk.

"Answer me!" Felicity shouted down the line. "Beetle, if I need to call in backup, I need to know now! It looks bad."

Nothing.

"Damn it, Beetle!" she cursed, hands balling up in frustration. Felicity was sitting in her office, blissfully empty, and hoping nobody happened to wander in anytime soon. Tense in her chair, she tapped a few keys, trying to pull up a better view of the shoot-out the Beetle was currently engaged in. Her body felt like static, on edge, connected to the machinery around her and feeling every tiny sound on the comm link like a pinprick on her skin.

"Answer me! This isn't a game and ignoring me isn't on anymore: I don't care if you _hate _me, you do _not_ go radio silent during a mission. _Especially_ when the stakes are this high. Not _ever_."

There was a crackle on the line, and bullets fired dully in the background before the Beetle's terse voice cut through. "-Didn't realise there was a rulebook to being a masked vigilante."

"This is serious, you're risking for life out there," Felicity barked. For a split-second she was shocked at the bite in her tone, sharp as steel. But then again, this had been her life for a long time, and she'd told scarier people than Beetle off. "I know you're mad – but you don't get to be. The moment you put on that mask, you become _something else_. You serve and protect. Whatever petty disagreements we have, the duty to the people comes first. So when I call, you _answer_."

She paused for just a moment. "Do you understand?"

"Loud and clear," The Beetle answered. The snark in his tone had lost all traces of the warmth it once held; it was a barbed now. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying not to get shot. I won't require assistance."

And just like that, the dead space was there again.

* * *

Ted, Michael and Felicity were watching Spanish soap operas.

It was a Saturday night and they had all cancelled plans to stay in, for once ignoring the thriving Chicago social scene and all the opportunities the night presented. Loud music and partying was far away from mind as they sat, the soft twanging of a mariachi band and occasional crunching of popcorn filling the air, neon lights replaced by soft lamplight.

It wasn't something they had planned, but it happened anyway.

"So, why is that woman screwing the gardener? Her husband's a fine piece of ass,_ and_ he owns his own business," Michael asked, perched with his knees curled up to his chest. He thoughtfully reached over and plucked a piece of popcorn from the bowl in Felicity's lap, sat between him and Ted on the small couch. "What's the competition? . . . Hey! He's like Ted, but y'know – _tan_."

The man in question rolled his eyes at the odd compliment. "Gee, thanks buddy."

"She doesn't love him," Felicity supplied, eyes glued to the screen. "I guess he's alright – he's stable, he's nice, he's rich – but the gardener, Hernando? He's her true love. Once you've met that person, nobody else even compares."

She frowned at the man with the black shirt unbuttoned to the waist prancing about the screen, the only indication he was even a gardener being the pair of shears in his belt loop. It really didn't make much sense - the clothes were impractical for gardening work. But for a second, that man changed as she blinked, becoming someone much more familiar and green.

Felicity shook herself as the man to her left spoke, pushing those thoughts away.

"Then why'd she marry him?" Michael pouted. Spanish-Ted was perfectly fine as a husband. The woman was just being picky.

"Because life isn't always that simple. Some things change you're sure about, like who you love . . . they don't work out. Things happen . . . people," Felicity paused. Tilting her head to the side as she thought, she shrugged, not really paying attention to her companions anymore. "People change, too. You don't always find the right person at the right time."

"And you end up screwing them in a shed," Ted responded, looking with disgust at the sweaty make-out session showing on the screen. He reached to take a piece of popcorn, throwing it in the air and catching it in his mouth.

Michael nodded, nonplussed, "Nice."

"What every girl dreams of," Felicity added in a dry tone, eating her own kernel. There was a snicker either side of her at that. "A macho man and agricultural equipment."

Michael snorted, "You should have said something darling, I could have shown you a good time."

"Please," she replied, laughing evenly. "You couldn't handle me."

The night went on with the roar of Ted's laughter as he choked on his beer, high-fiving his friend and jeering at Michael, who took it in humour with hands raised in surrender. It was growing on her, Felicity would admit. Her life here. And Michael, appearing out of nowhere and slotting into her life so easily, only make it that less lonely.

She could deal with it if her life was filled with laughter and the wails of lost love.

* * *

"What's wrong, sunshine smile?"

Felicity heard the words as she sat with her head in her hands, slumped on her desk at work in the late evening a few days after that. Her floor was empty aside from her: the rest of the Kord employee's leaving at a reasonable hour, when the sun was still visible on the skyline. It was long gone now, the city coming to life with a thousand little lights outside of her window.

The nickname was touching as it was grating. Felicity would smile in a vaguely irritated way whenever she heard it, but at the same time it made her heart feel lighter.

"It's nothing," she sat up, shaking her head tiredly. "Just been thinking about a lot of things lately."

Michael sat down on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, twisting it around in a way that made the wheels squeak before straddling it, resting his hands on the back of the chair. Head tilting to one side, he plucked her glasses from where they had been discarded on her desk and rested them on the bridge of his nose, pasting on an inquisitive expression.

"Now zell me, patient Smoak," he asked in a ridiculous German accent, making Felicity crack up despite herself and this time hide her head in shame. As she tried to force seriousness on her face, Michael glowed at the reaction he'd received, struggling to keep up his joke as he went on. "Vas it to do with your childhood? Or ze traumatic experienze of having to be friends with zat nerd Ted for years?"

Felicity forced her face to be still as she looked up, saying deadpan. "The only traumatic experience is this conversation."

"Hey!" he leaned back and pouted, breaking his accent. "I thought that was funny. Those are _fun _stereotypes!"

"But that accent was an abomination."

"Damn, insulting a guy's fake accents. That's cold, Smoak." Michael shook his head, placing a hand over his heart, but his act was betrayed by a tell-tale twitch of his lips. He wanted to laugh; they both knew it. Face clearing after they shared a glance, his smile deepening to a brief, bright grin, Michael's face straightened in a moment of earnestness. "Now we've broke the tension – what's actually up?"

Felicity didn't answer. The only sign of her discomfort was the way her eyebrows creased and her feet pushing her chair slightly, making it move back and forth a few inches. But at the time, her eyes kept flicking hopefully towards him, Felicity biting her bottom lip to keep from talking.

Michael shrugged, noticing and not wanting to push it. Well, not much. But he was used to getting people to tell him things, one way or another. And it was clear Felicity really did want to talk to someone.

"It's fine, it's fine. You don't have to tell me," he said, but then he put on his best 'casually innocent' voice and tempted. "But I don't know anyone here to tell whatever it is to, and I don't know you well enough to judge yet. I'm just saying."

Gracefully, he got to his feet and loped towards the door. His back turned, a victorious smirk lit up his face when Felicity spoke.

"It's just- argh," she broke off, waving her hands in the air as the noise of frustration left her. With a second groan, Felicity got up and walked around her desk towards him, tapping him on the shoulder to make him fall into step with her as they headed towards the elevator. "It's hard to explain. I vote we get wine to help the process."

"Do I really look like a wine guy?"

Arriving quickly, the elevator swung open to admit them, Felicity stomped confidently in. Rubbing the back of his neck, Michael followed. He had a feeling he was getting a rant now whether he wanted one or not.

The doors closed, sealing them into the small metal box with a cheery bing. Fortunately, the music ended there – a few months ago there had been an employee strike after Ted programmed the lift music to play nothing but 'ice ice baby' at full volume. Now Felicity and Michael stood in silence.

"Okay, it's like this," Felicity leaned against the metal hand bar on the elevator. Waving a hand, she began as vaguely as possible, "I had this . . . this disagreement with a friend. A big one. Like, end of an era big." She gestured with her eyebrows, nodding her head in his direction. "It would be like me or you cutting ties with Ted forever. It was someone that I – that I cared about a lot. He and I were . . ."

Michael's brow creased as he leaned towards her, "Were what?"

"Par-" Before she could finish the word, Felicity was cut off as the doors opened once more. Thought apparently forgotten, they walked out together, crossing the abandoned foyer of the building before stepping into the breeze outside.

As the Kord building was on the waterfront of Lake Michigan, there was a long walk between them and promised wine. But it was a good day to do it: it was sunny but kept cool by the breeze, boats lazily tracking their way across the glinting water, cheery sails in the distance.

As Felicity looked over at the closest boat, the sky turned grey as she blinked, the sunlight draining from the picture as the calm waters grew enraged. Breath catching, Felicity saw the boat go under, dragged into the depths by the overwhelming current. The mirage faded as every time she blinked, Felicity saw nothing but green.

"Hey," Michael put a hand on her arm, waving the other in front of her face with a grin. "I'm being charming over here. Pay attention to me."

Turning away from the nightmarish manifestation of her worried thoughts, Felicity forced herself to walk forward with her new friend, forcing her lips upwards and shakily laughing at his joke. But the smell of salt had replaced the bland scent of water, it's taste lingering at the back of her mouth.

Although she knew it was ridiculous, she couldn't shake the feeling that the past was catching up to her. With everything weighing on her mind – the Arrow and the Beetle, whether or not to become more involved with yet another vigilante – it wasn't surprising that she was starting to crack and see things. Personally, she was surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

". . . And you're _still_ not paying attention to me? Damn, I'm losing my touch."

Michael was pouting in her face again, strolling backwards with his hands slung in his pockets when his words made Felicity jump again. They were halfway around the lake now, the glass tower of the Kord building half a mile behind her, threading the sky.

Shaking her head, she tried to look apologetic. "Sorry! I'm sorry, Michael. My heads just . . . well, it's somewhere. Probably."

"Far away?"

"Cities," Felicity replied derisively, pulling a hand through her ponytail. "There's a lot of things on my mind right now. For the past few months, actually – a _lot_ of things in my life have changed. And it all started with that argument."

Michael looked over and made a face, "Then that seems a good place to start."

* * *

It was gone midnight when Felicity and Michael left the Waterfront Bar, named as literally as it could be. Essentially, it was a boat permanently fixed in the dock, selling anything alcoholic from a hatch in the hull.

A few metal chairs and tables were scattered close by, semi-permanently filled with Kord employee's, business suit clad and on break. It was the most popular place for Ted's staff to gather off the clock too – and he'd been known to join them on occasion. They even had a weekly karaoke night.

For hours, Felicity and Michael had sat on a table away from the others. It was uncomfortable, the metal biting into their backs and the wind chill becoming deadly once the sun had been completely erased from the sky, vanishing behind the skyscrapers marking the horizon and being replaced by shadows. In the shadows, the night was born; cold and like a mask in it's own sense, the night gave people an anonymity they lacked while the sun was up. They did things they would never ordinarily do, the night hiding their faces and letting their true emotions rise to the surface – and in Felicity's case, people in shadow spoke about things they didn't trust themselves to say any other time.

And Michael listened. Without complaint or judgement – albeit with occasional joking – he listened to what she had to say. It was simple, but that was enough. When she was done, he gave his verdict:

"I think . . . that's one messed up situation."

Whether or not it was because of the four bottles of wine they'd drank between them or the simplicity of her friend's statement, Felicity burst out laughing at that comment. She supposed it was fair enough – even with the information about the Arrow omitted, her and Oliver and Beetle's situation was 'messed up'.

"Well, you're not wrong," she laughed. It died a little on her lips, like a truth half-told, desperate to reach the light. "I'm just scared. It's stupid, but I am – after everything that happened with Oliver and how he _dismissed _me, like I was nothing-" Felicity shook her head, hands clenched underneath the table. Pushing air out of her mouth and breaking off, she looked towards the water, trying to keep calm, the sight not doing much to sooth her nerves.

She felt a hand on her arm, and looked up to find Michael attempting a sympathetic smile in her direction. "You're something, Felicity. I promise you that."

Returning the look, she covered his hand with her own. Her voice was steady as she continued, "It made me scared to let anyone else in. So when I started speaking to this other guy – he wanted something I couldn't give. He wanted a partner. I . . . if I do that again, if I give someone else that much – what if he does the same thing Oliver did? I can't lose anybody else."

It was the lie she'd had to tell: in this version of the story, Beetle was a guy she had started speaking to online. Still no names, no commitment – until she turned him down when he asked to meet. It wasn't too much of a stretch from the truth, enough to give Michael a lay of the land.

But even as she spoke them, Felicity knew her words were true, voice cracking on the final sentence.

"Shhh, hey, you're not losing anybody," her friend said softly. Michael was not soft-spoken, he was loud and brash and never knew he'd crossed a line until it was a speck in the distance – but he could tell how important this was so her. "Felicity, life is . . . unpredictable. I never thought I'd be here, that my life would be this," he shook his head, giving a half laugh. "But I am. And that's what matters."

". . . I don't understand."

"What you are isn't who you are. What's happened before?" Michael shrugged easily, "That's the past. But you can't live in the present _and_ let it define you – right not, you _make_ yourself alone. Just because he hurt you, it doesn't mean everyone will. You've got to have faith in people – and yourself."

Felicity blinked, "So you think I made the wrong choice when I told the other guy I wouldn't meet him?"

"I think you were scared. And if they care at all – they'll respect that." Michael smiled dimly, "I'm not saying rush off and throw yourself into his arms, not by any means. It isn't a switch. You have to learn to trust yourself before you let anyone else have that much influence on your life, but, well, you can't do that until you've made peace with how you've changed."

Michael grinned, getting up to call a cab. "But then again, don't take my advice. I'm an idiot."

He walked away, leaving Felicity and a storm of confused thoughts in his wake. At the heart of it, Mikey was right - It wasn't her identity she was protecting by keeping the Blue Beetle at arms length. It was her heart.

She'd given it to Oliver almost the moment she had met him, in every word and touch and in every moment she had helped him since. And then he had thrown her away like yesterday's trash.

That kind of heartbreak lingered. Felicity was scared to make another home here like the one she had lost; she was scared of letting someone else in to lose them again. It was that simple. The only thing stopping her was her own doubt.

"Hey, cab's coming." Michael appeared back at her side; face flush from the wind chill now. Felicity checked her watch, eyebrows furrowing when she realised how long they'd been out there. Closing her eyes, Felicity shook her head before reaching out and grabbing Ted's collar; planting a grateful kiss on his cheek.

"I have to do something. Can you hold the cab for ten minutes while I make a call?"

"Sure thing," Michael agreed, looking slightly taken back at the affection. "Are you okay? What's so important that it can't wait?"

Felicity stepped back, only slightly shaky on her feet. "Making peace."

She left a drunken message on Oliver's voicemail. It was clichéd and probably a stupid thing to do, but as she poured at everything she had wanted to say to him since that night into the empty air of the machine, Felicity felt herself grow lighter with every word freed. It was unrestrained, liberating.

It was as close to peace as she had gotten since Oliver had walked into her office with a bullet-ridden laptop.

* * *

"Okay," Felicity said nervously to the comm on the Bug. It had been a few days since her drunken realisation that she was scared to be close to people, and it had taken her mulling it over in her mind for that long to come to a conclusion: she didn't want to live her life scared. She wouldn't. "Beetle, I'm going to talk a lot now, and you're going to listen to me. I hope."

"I . . . I'm sorry, for being so short with you the other day. But I'm not sorry for my decision. I stand by it, in fact: I don't want to meet you face to face yet." Felicity took a deep breath, "but one day, maybe. I – I let something that happen to me rule my life for a while, when I said we couldn't be friends. Like you told me about the last Blue Beetle and how you lost him, this isn't my first crack at saving people, either. I lost someone. Not in the same way but . . . I lost them all the same."

"I'm sorry," Beetle cut in quietly. There was complacency in his tone, edging on forgiveness.

"It's okay. It's _really_ okay," Felicity said strongly, without the hesitancy of her words before. "I'm still glad I knew him, nothing will change that. But it's my choice now to make something new – I want to help you again, I want to be a team. But with like, baby steps. Just for now."

"Baby steps it is, then," Beetle agreed. The relief in his voice was unmistakable. "I've been going crazy in here, talking to myself. I think even my own tech is planning a mutiny."

Felicity found herself glowing, edges of her lips tilted up as she pushed her glasses firmly onto her nose in a self-assured manner. "I've been thinking. About a name, that is. Calling me 'friend' is starting to get ridiculous – if accurate."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We have some work to do, but we've already established a name for you. People are talking – but there's still a lot of people who need our help. And to do it," Felicity smiled. "Call me Kerberos."

* * *

**A/N: I know I didn't update in ages. I'm sorry. But this is quite a long chapter to make up for it, and I'll try to get this story finished soonish! Felicity needed a superhero name, and 'Kerberos' is an authentication protocol developed by programmers at MIT - so in my head, it was probably something Felicity heard about and learned while she was there. The word also originates from the three headed dog of the underworld Cerebus, which ties in to the three members of her teams: Felicity, Oliver &amp; Diggle - and now of course, Felicity, Beetle and next chapter, Booster Gold. ****But also props to my friend Gabby for helping me pick the name! **

**Next chapter 'A night you'll never forget' (guess the song) and the reaction to Felicity's drunken voicemail over in Starling. The convergence of the two cities is coming. **


	13. These Four Words

** 'These four words' **

Oliver left the voicemail in his inbox for months.

When he first got it, the name had terrified him. The way they had left things, he knew there was no reason for Felicity to _ever _want to talk to him again – unless she was in trouble. Heartbeat faltering, it skipped a beat as he read the name flashing on his screen when he picked up his phone in the Foundry, wincing at the bright lights in the early hour but snapped instantly awake, fear speeding up the world around him.

Running to the computer, Oliver did exactly as she had once taught him. He tracked her. Fingers flying over the keyboard and barely registering the words he typed, Oliver hacked and searched until he found footage of her leaving work an hour ago in the Kord CCTV videotapes, feeling a flood of relief at the sight. Felicity had been safe then, laughing arm in arm with a blonde man he did not recognise.

That was six hours ago. The message had been left 45 minutes earlier, which left a lot of time for something to have happened, a sharp kick in Oliver's gut at the thought of what that might have been. He felt himself shake, breathing uneven as he closed his eyes for half a second, allowing panic to set in. Really, Oliver knew it could be an over-reaction – he should just listen to the message and see what she had to say before he jumped to conclusions head first.

For five more seconds he allowed himself to be afraid for her. In his heart, he believed she would never want to even hear his name again unless she was desperate – so the fact she had called scared him to death.

Time up, Oliver slowly lifted his cell phone to his ear, hearing the beep before the message started.

"So, I didn't know I'd be doing this tonight," Felicity said. Her voice was echoed in the phone, the sound of water in the background reminding him just how far away she was. "I didn't think I'd be doing this_ ever_, really. But I am. I have to."

She hiccoughed, and Oliver diagnosed why she sounded off: she was drunk. The pacing between her words was slower, not rushed out in fear of being interrupted or a world-wide dilemma popping up. Towards the end of each phrase, Felicity's voice got lower until the words fizzled out, a static silence in between each point. He could tell she was thinking what to say next – this was spontaneous, and he suspected even she didn't know what she wanted to say.

Felicity was just talking, a frank honesty in her tone which he had missed. But the truth was painful, and the next words hit him hard.

"It's not life-threatening, so don't rush over here. I don't need you, Oliver – that's kinda the point."

Felicity huffed, which was surprising – unless she was yelling at him, she very rarely let her annoyance show. It wasn't that she wasn't angry at him: he knew she was sometimes, and she had every right to be – but Felicity shouldered it for the greater good. He'd seen her do it. A lot of the time, Oliver wished he was as strong as she was.

"I spent so much time wondering what I did wrong. I thought . . . I thought it was my fault. And now I know that it wasn't; that I am in charge of my life and what I want it to be. . ."

Even as she said the words, Oliver shook his head in silent horror. He hated that she had felt that way, even for a second – Felicity was the world. Everything that had happened, all the hurt, the lies, the running away – that was_ him_.

"I can't let go . . . not without saying this. I'm here. In Chicago. And I thought being away, with time . . . I'd just be able to forget. But I can't, Oliver, because I never got to say what I needed to before I left. Not what I – what I _wanted_ to."

It had meant she was safe from harm all the way in Chicago, but Oliver didn't realise what a blow to Felicity's self esteem the split had been. He had wanted her to be angry, hell _furious_ at him – but he was supposed to be the one hurting because of that. She was supposed to be happy.

"But what I want to say isn't the same anymore, I've changed. And now . . . I can start over. I have a chance to really do something good here, but I _can't_ keep looking back for you_ and_ do it at the same time. I-" her voice hitched in what could have been a sob, but was pushed back in a deep breath. "I have to let one go. It's _you_, Oliver. I have to let you go so I can move forwards."

But all thoughts of his mistake were pushed from his mind with her next words: they didn't give an inch for hesitation or doubt, there were sure, even if there was a hitched pain in every note.

"Oliver, I _don't_ love you."

Cutting off the message, Oliver threw his phone away from him. Hands flying to his mouth, they lingered there for a second, pressing down to stop himself from crying out, but his fingers trembled even then. He stepped back, needing to put distance between himself and the offending object.

He was in shock and he knew it. Of all the things he had expected her to say to him, those were not among them. Oliver could have handled rage or spite – but indifference? That stung. A world in which Felicity was a stranger was one in which every second was a sandstorm without cover.

Somewhere along the line, he had come to the conclusion that he loved her, too.

It was a slow realisation, on his part. Too late to count. But at some point in the last three years, Felicity's smiles had become his own reason to, her words the loudest things in the minefield of his life, her hand soothing, comforting, the only ones he ever wanted to hold. She was the person he most looked forward to speaking to in the morning, and usually the text he woke up to. Even the simple 'good morning' ones.

Then when she was in danger, it was like the world was ending. All that matter was that she was safe, she was protected; that her smiles never ceased because of him and all his misery. At first, that had meant keeping her safe from physical harm – but it had all become so twisted. Now he'd hurt her and not even realised the damage he was inflicted even as he twisted the knife, pushing her so far away that her touch was a ghost in his closet.

He loved her, and now – it was lost.

Oliver spent the next ten minutes sitting in her chair and trying to breathe normally again, pulse rising with a kind of fear he was not used to. Oliver was used to risking life and limb; but now, his heart lay on a blade's edge and he couldn't bear to hear the rest of that message.

It might just be the death of him.

* * *

The second time he tried to listen to the message was a month and a half after it had arrived. Although Oliver knew that he should have listened to it sooner, that Felicity had the right to say whatever she needed to even if it caused him pain and that he owed it to her to hear it, he had been putting it off. He kept it in his inbox, though.

The words rang in his mind all month: _I don't love you_.

Oliver heard them clear as day as he sat in his office, staring at the window without really seeing anything. On the other side of the glass sat the new PA the company had hired, who had a habit awkwardly knocking the door and offering him coffee every five minutes. She was younger than Felicity, and lacked her will – he had even tried to talk to her a few times, but the girl lacked any sort of personality. She just agreed with everything he said and giggled a lot. Oliver hadn't predicted on missing Felicity arguing with him, and being called out on when he was wrong - in truth, she had made him better in that respect.

He missed her.

When he was fighting, he heard it the loudest. With Slade Wilson still in town, now backed up by an army of Mirikuru-fuelled thugs that were over-running them nightly, Oliver's team was spread too thin and getting knocked down more often than they won these days. So when his knuckles bled, and his chest ached from broken ribs, he couldn't believe that four words were the things that hurt the most.

On a night like that, he sat in an empty Verdant at five in the morning, bourbon in hand, and started the message for a second time.

"_I don't love you_."

Felicity's week-old voice wavered, but she spoke again with resolve. "I don't love you, Oliver. But I _did_. For such a long time . . . I would have given you everything. Anything."

Oliver bit his lip hard, drawing blood. It pooled in front of his teeth, and he could taste nothing but iron and flesh. Shaking his head a little, he forced himself to breath and take a sip of his drink, the alcohol entering the cut and stinging, burning with the same fierceness as the words and blocking them out for a second. He listened on. He still owed her that.

"There was a time that I would have told you that and hoped you felt the same way, somehow," Felicity said. He could hear the smile in her voice, but it was laced with tears; this was not a happy confession. "There was another time I thought you did. Love me, I mean. I . . . it was impossible, but I was stupid, I guess. I thought that if I just waited, if I stayed by your side – that one day things would change and we could be together."

"But when they did change, it didn't go that way. Slade Wilson: he was the one who started it all. When he came back . . . you, it was like everything that had happened in the past three years, they went away. The parts of you that were healed well enough to be kind and soft and_ loving_ \- the way you were before – they just . . . went away."

Felicity paused, but just for a few moments. "It was like you were so afraid of being hurt again you just . . . put yourself on another island. But this one was of your making."

That was all Oliver could bear to hear; once again he killed her voice with a twitch of his finger, fist clenching around the phone. This time, he did not throw it or slam it away – he couldn't even muster the energy to. Instead, he rested his forehead on his laced fingers, closing his eyes tightly until there was no trace of colour left, not even the red usually behind closed eyes, just blackness and a sense that all hope was lost.

Oliver was so very, truly tired. Exhausted in a way that burrowed down to his bones and rooted there, making each step an effort it was becoming too hard to take.

He'd been in bad places before, but he had always had something to hold on to; something worth pushing through hell to get back to. On the island the first time, the thought of seeing his family again, of seeing Laurel again and making things right; when he got home, he fought for his family and friends. For his team.

And a lot of the time, he fought for Felicity Smoak.

A long time ago, he had made her a promise to always come back. It was one he had planned on keeping, no matter what, but like most things in his life, it was something broken. God, he had loved her. He had thought the same thing a thousand times – one day, things will be better. Oliver had believed that. And somewhere along the line, the better place had become wherever she was.

Felicity had become the future he planned for; the hope that one day, they could just leave. Starling City meant a lot to him, and it would always be home – but he wanted to run. He wanted to one day look out and see his work was done, the city was safe, his family was happy, and on that day, he wanted to take Felicity and go somewhere untouched by any trace of that life.

He wanted to make a new one, with her. But, with a voicemail and a lot of bad choices, his hope was lost. And Oliver Queen cried on a barstool in the dark until the sun had risen around him.

* * *

"It's okay," Felicity said. Oliver was on a rooftop this time, sitting with dangling legs over a midnight city. "It really is, I mean that. I didn't call to rant or to hurt you, I just . . . I needed to say it out loud, you know? I carried it for too long, and I can't move on until I stop."

"I know," Oliver whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him. Lost in his own thoughts, he nearly fell off the roof when someone dropped down next to him.

"Who are you talking to?" Sara asked, tilting her head to one side. Originally grinning at making him jump, she took one look at his face and grew serious, brow knitting itself together. "That's not a happy face. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snapped back, switching off the phone speedily. Oliver got to his feet, sharpening his posture to the weapon it usually was, lowering his voice to gravel. "You shouldn't be sneaking around like that, I could've-"

"What? _Hurt _me?" Sara flicked her hair and laughed, "Yeah, right. Even if you weren't so busy monologuing to hear me coming, we all know who'd win that fight. So don't flatter yourself."

Oliver rolled his eyes, asking dryly, "Are you done?"

"Eh – I'll tell you if I come up with anything else," she replied, quick as a whip. "So, spill. What's got your shiny green panties in a twist?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You haven't been talking for _two and a half months_," Sara argued. Although he had walked away, standing on the other side of the rooftop with crossed arms, she wandered over in a lazy manner, leaning against the wall next to him. Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she went on in short, blunt sentences, "We've noticed. All of us. Your_ friends_. Who you should tell your problems to."

Huffing, Oliver crossed his arms tighter but relaxed a little, twisting on the balls of his feet. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's just – personal."

"Oliver, I know you better than you think I do," Sara said simply. "There's not much you could hide from me after all we've been through. 'Personal' issues? They stopped existing in this friendship years ago."

Despite himself, Oliver almost laughed at that. She was right, of course. Between him and her, there was nothing left to know – if he had to make a stand anywhere, he would want Sara at his side. It was the sort of bond that could only have been forged by all the horrors they had seen together, and he was so grateful nothing could diminish that friendship – not even their fling, or well, _dying_.

"But, since I know you so well, you don't even have to tell me what it is. I know," Sara looked him dead in the eye, something mischievous in her gaze. "It's Felicity."

When he didn't reply instantly, she knew she was right. Oliver looked at his feet, shrugging in a small, sad way. "She called me a week ago. Well, she left a message."

"Saying?"

"A lot of things, I uh, I haven't listened to all of it yet," Oliver admitted sheepishly, turning towards the city to hide his blush of embarrassment at that, the night-time breeze hitting his face, sharp and fresh at that height. It brushed against his stubble, cooling his burning cheeks. "But the main part of the message was that she is," he paused, not sure how to explain it. "Over it? She's . . . moving on with her life."

"Oh," Sara said quietly. Sad frown twitching across her face, she took a step closer to him. "I'm sorry, Ollie."

"I don't know why I – I don't know why it hurts," he admitted, stumbling over his words. Oliver shook his head bitterly, angry at the world, and at himself. "She's been gone for months now, _I'm_ the one who told her to go! It was _my _fault."

"But you expected her to come back, even if you didn't realise it. I saw it," Sara put a hand on his arm gently. "The faith you had in her. You both thought she was coming back when she left, that when this was all done," she waved a vague hand, "She'd come home and everything would be okay again. It hurts because you've both realised that it isn't that straightforward."

Oliver blinked hard. He hadn't ever thought to think of it that way, but it was true – he had expected Felicity to come back. Even when she moved to Chicago, even when they fought, there was never a moment he truly believed she was gone for good. Always, Oliver thought that once Slade was gone he could go to her and apologise; make things right between them.

But if she was really moving on, that door was swinging closed right in front of his eyes.

"How did you know?" he asked Sara, turning to the other woman.

"You love her," she replied. The frankness in her voice never changed, honesty was something you could count on Sara for. "That's all there is to it. You love her, but you let her leave because you were scared of losing her – you thought that would hurt worse than anything. But you were wrong. _This_ hurts more."

Oliver looked at her, knowing she understood. Sara's burning eyes met his own, tears neither of them would ever shed shining there. "Nyssa?"

"Sometimes you have to let the people you love go. For your own good and for theirs," Sara admitted, tremble in her voice. The hand on his arm tightened to a squeeze, making him look down at it, covering it with his own, but when he looked up she was smiling. "I don't think that's true in your case, though. You have a chance."

"But . . . the message-"

"You made a bad choice, Oliver. When you decided for her, when you pushed her away – that was wrong, and I think you know it now." Sara shook her head. "I did tell you – it was her choice to make, not yours. But the way you two loved each other – that was pure; _good_. Go back to _that_, and you stand a chance."

"How do I go back? Slade-"

"Is not one of the two people involved here," Sara said drying, rolling her eyes. "You can't let other people rule your life like that! He wins if you're not happy in fear of him."

"If he hurt her, I'd . . . I'd die. And if he did more than that? If he ki-" choking, he stopped, unable to finish the word. He shook his head violently, "I live alone. I can survive that way - I've done it. But without her? I couldn't. I couldn't live in a world without her." Oliver was barely composed, "I'm _scared_."

"Do you want to know a secret?" Sara asked, letting go of his arm. Although her words were weighted, her smile at him beforehand was brighter than before, the tears almost gone from her eyes. "We all are. Every day. I think that's why we fight a lot of the time, people like you and me. We fight not to be afraid almost as much as we fight to protect the people that we love."

* * *

Four months after the message had first been sent; Oliver listened to it in its entirety.

The beginning didn't sting so much anymore. Barely reacting, he listened to Felicity tearfully admit she didn't love him, showing no outward reaction to the words aside from the slight clenching of his jaw. He sat in the empty foundry, but it was not as desolate as before – Roy and Diggle had left in laughter ten minutes ago, and Sara was working the bar upstairs and checked on him every break, bringing drinks and needed company.

A lot had changed in the past few months: Slade Wilson was dead, Sara delivering the final blow for fear of what Oliver would become if he did the deed. He was in the ground and no longer a problem, but Oliver still blamed himself for how that fight went down. It was his fault – he should have found another way, or fired the arrow himself – it wasn't fair to let his friend's hands become bloodier because of _his_ feud.

Starling was safer, marginally. There was still crime; still work to be done. But now, it was possible to believe they were winning, that things were almost at the promised 'better' times. It wasn't so dark anymore. He was starting to think about slowing down, letting Roy take more patrols and spending more time with his family.

But before he did that, there was another thing he had to put right. Felicity.

And it started with finally listening to the whole damn message.

"_I can't move on until I stop_. So this is me . . . stopping. I forgive you, by the way," Felicity said. "Now I've said all that, I'm done. I'm moving on."

"But uh, I want to thank you for what you taught me. I know now that I can make a difference: and I intend to. You taught me to be strong, to try and help others no matter what," she blew air out of her mouth, and he heard her smile in the warmth of her tone. "That's what I want to do with my life. I'm gonna keep doing that – I even got some new friends. We're going to work it out together."

Oliver frowned at that, leaning backwards in her old chair. He must have understood her wrong. It sounded as if . . . no, Felicity wouldn't do that. She wouldn't work with another vigilante.

But something akin to uncertainty stirred in his gut, putting him on edge as her drunken words tumbled on, feeling as if he were about to go headfirst off a cliff.

"And you can't be mad at me for this, by the way. Absolutely not. You can't teach me how to do something good and then be pissed when I keep doing it, even without you," there was bite to the words. They were meant to hurt, or reprimand, as it were. "So I'm doing this. My own way, this time – I'm going to keep being a hero. Or the eyes and ears of the operation, at least. It's what I do best. Me and the Beetle are gonna make a difference here."

"No," Oliver said aloud, pouting at what he was hearing. It couldn't be true. He had sent her away so she could be safe, not walk headfirst into danger again. And who the hell was the Beetle? Oliver's fists clenched at his sides.

"So I wish you the best," Felicity finished resolutely. "I really do. After all of this, all I want is for you to be happy - I am."

The line clicked, and as a voice began to announce his options to delete or save the message, Oliver slammed his phone down in fury and instantly jumped onto the computer. Searching the internet for 'the Beetle', he soon found out about the other vigilante working in Chicago, stopping fires and criminals – and as a final kick in the balls, he was _adored_ there. The people loved their hero.

Although there was no specific mention of Felicity to be found, there were reports of the Beetle having a partner – some gold spandex idiot called Booster Gold, and even fewer mentions of them both talking on a comm. Link to a third party. This person was a mystery; most of the media speculated they existed and organised the pair of crime fighters, but the biggest instance of their existence was a cyber-terrorism attack on the city, after which the Beetle credited the savoir as 'Kerberos'.

What Oliver initially thought was anger warped quickly, becoming worry for his friend. If this 'Kerberos' was Felicity, she was right in the middle of another vigilante operation, making enemies and in danger.

The final report of the Blue Beetle caught his eye, and Oliver blanched. **'Hero missing, city in crisis'**.

Grabbing his portable costume and a jacket, Oliver took the stairs two at a time, emerging panic-striken in Verdant. He leaned over the bar until he caught Sara's eye, who noticed his expression and made a beeline for him.

"Trouble?"

"In a sense," he replied. "I need you to trust me on something. I think an old friend needs our help."

"Anything," Sara nodded immediately. "Who? Where?"

Oliver turned, knowing she would fall into step beside him and pulling his phone out again to call Roy and Diggle. "It's time to get the band back together. We're going to Chicago."

* * *

** A/N: this was a quick-ish update right? Anyways, Oliver Queen is a drama queen (and I'm trying to make him more like comic Ollie eventually) and Sara Lance is a goddess. **

**Also, since there's about five chapters left of this story I'll ask now and hopefully someone will get back to me: if I wrote a sort of continuation (aka I write DCU characters into its tv shows), would anyone be interested in a similar story where I wrote Hal Jordan into the CW Flash universe? **


	14. And Gold Again

**'And Gold Again'**

_Month one_

Oliver didn't call back, and Felicity didn't care.

It was gone now, the weight of the words. The thoughts that lingered months on, the 'what if' way she had looked back on Starling – those times were over. She loved him. It was out there. And with that release Felicity Smoak breathed easier, laughed instead of sighing, and put her chin up towards the waiting world.

Beetle made her laugh, mostly. There was the hero-stuff too, but for the first month of their renewed working relationship, they spent a lot of time talking and laughing, thick as thieves. In between clearing out the drug trade in the clubs and bars, an operation which gained Beetle a lot of popularity with the press and the people, they started to expand their operation slowly. Felicity built up a series of checkpoints throughout the city with her work change, tiny safehouses scattered around where she could leave gadgets for Beetle to collect and where he could stay if he needed to keep an eye on a certain area.

After about a month, he brought Booster Gold to her like a puppy he'd found on the side of the road.

"Can he stay?" Beetle asked hopefully, looking towards his on board camera with big eyes and a pleading expression. Kerberos' icon – a three headed dog, playing into the origins of the name – gave nothing away in response, but her voice did.

"He's a hero?" Felicity asked, frowning at her computer screen. She could see Beetle and his new friend: a blonde in a bright yellow suit and tiny robot hovering beside his head which apparently answered to 'Skeets'. "Then why have I never heard of him? There are no records of him, well, _anywhere_."

Booster Gold pouted slightly. "That's not _my_ fault! I tried working out in Coast before some shiny green guy kicked me out, and I've been bumming around in the timestream since then. I just need a good break, like you and Beetle have got here."

"C'mon, K. He's an old friend, I trust him. When we uh . . . fell out?" Beetle grimaced at the memory and choice of words. "Booster came here, without a second's hesitation. In those weeks I wasn't actually alone; he was my backup but let me take the credit to build up my popularity here. But all of us _together_ – it would be so cool. We could do so much more."

Felicity bit her lip, unsure. She was risking a lot with just Beetle – but, new life. New team. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

She sighed a little and Beetle lit up like Christmas, knowing what that meant. Felicity shook her head, talking to Booster with a hint of the smile. "What can you do then, golden boy?"

Booster grinned.

* * *

_Month two_

"Take your next left," Felicity said. Her fingers scrabbled around, chair twisting from side to side as she worked three computers simultaneously, eyes darting between the them and processing the information they yielded in seconds. Sometimes, the job wasn't easy. "You'll reach a door – code to unlock it: 3792."

"Got it!" Beetle yelled back, skidding around the corner. In his hand he clasped his now infamous gun – which shot a blast of compressed air at an enemy, causing damage in a similar way to Sara's canary cries did.

But he was no safer on that side of the door, as Felicity discovered a second later. Beetle was at an intersection of the concrete building, armed forces approaching from all sides.

"Crap."

"Crap?!" he whispered back jokingly, "That's not too comforting, K. Tell me that's a 'crap, I left the oven on' and not a 'crap, the most handsome member of our team is about to be riddled with bullets!'"

"In your dreams," Booster snorted, listening in to the conversation. He was panting slightly, heading towards his friend at top speed, as he'd been instructed by 'Kerberos' to do. Trusting the order of 'head _towards_ the gunmen' without hesitation, he struggled to get there in time. "And _riddled with bullets_? Just because you talk like we're in a western doesn't mean it's true. Never happening, buddy."

Beetle was starting to get jumpy, hearing boots approaching. "Let me live my dreams before I die, you asshole."

"Guys! Problem at hand, please?" Felicity snapped in frustration and desperation, and they both winced.

Ducking their heads shamefully, the boys muttered in unison. "Sorry, K."

"You're being approached on all sides, Beetle. Gunmen, armed to the teeth with this new bio-weapon from Gotham." Felicity supplied, still tapping away. "I can't get you out, but-"

"Thank God there's a but-"

There was an uncertain edge to her voice, "Booster's on his way?"

"That's your big plan?" Beetle laughed, raking a hand through his hair. He looked around, but the heavy metal doors left no indication of how close the forces were or if there was another way out behind any of them. This is why they needed Kerberos – she saw what they couldn't, lead them to where they needed to be. She was usually better at the job than this. "Great. My life's in the hands of a moron."

"I could just let them make swiss cheese outta you, you know!" Booster shouted back at the insult. But it was exactly what he needed: riled up, as Beetle was smart enough to know he would be, Booster flew faster towards the skylight he needed to gain access to the building. He went on, "Me and K would be fine without you. Yeah, 'boo hoo, Beetle was a good hero he'll be missed yadda yadda blah' – but we'd just hook up and go on without him, wouldn't we babe?"

He was talking to Kerberos now; Felicity realised what they were doing and played along. Joking in mad times. This was so unlike how it was with the Arrow, she felt insane laughter well up anyway but contained it. "Sure thing, sugar."

"_Wow_," Beetle grumbled. "With friends like you guys, who needs enemies? _Me,_ apparently, because I'm about to be shot to shit either way."

The light beside a door to his left turned green, and he knew he was screwed. Still, Beetle turned towards it with determination in his stance, feet planted apart and gun in hand. Features grim, he let off a shot as the squadron entered, charging towards them as half fell from the blast, and vaulting over a falling man and into the middle of the rest.

Beetle fought, and for a moment, was winning. Then the other three doors opened with more soldiers piling in, and he knew he was done for but shot anyway, compressor gun worth it's weight in gold in his opinion for the seconds it bought him.

"Fellas!" he shouted when those seconds were spent, standing in the middle of the room with a dozen guns aimed at him. Beetle threw his hands up carelessly and tried to buy more time. "Do you really want to do this? Take a second and think about it."

The nearest squadron leader looked blankly at him and nodded. "Da."

It had brought him a whole of two seconds, and Beetle rolled his eyes at the reply. "Well. Okay then, I guess. I get that."

The Blue Beetle closed his eyes and waited for the shots to come. But they didn't.

There was a mighty crash overhead and Booster Gold flew through the roof, smashing the glass skylight with his gauntlet blasters before swooping in, landing beside his best friend with a satisfied smirk. Eyebrows jumping up at how well that had gone, he disguised his surprise with smirk and asked the gunman, "You really weren't planning on having this dance without me, were you?"

Gunfire sounded, but neither men flinched an inch. Booster had surrounded them with a forcefield the minute they landed, so he and Beetle simply waved from the other side at the invisible barrier as the bullets bounced off, much to the confusion of their enemies.

"Oh I'm sorry, this isn't a problem is it?" Beetle asked, pointing at the force field.

"Right," Booster agreed, nodding like the thought had just appeared to him. "They wanted to_ fight_."

Tapping his goggles to turn on the infra-red as Booster did the same, Beetle held out his arms expectantly and shouted, "Kerberos, if you please."

Felicity groaned because at this rate the pair of them wouldn't last the week, but a second later the lights to the entire building went out. Booster dropped the force field, and Blue and Gold attacked in situ. When the lights came on precisely three minutes later, they stood in the middle of dropped gunmen and high-fived; Felicity thought that it felt like something epic.

* * *

_Month three_

Felicity was waiting at one of the safe houses. As she sat awkwardly on the edge of the simple blue couch, perched with a flighty look, half considering just running away, her hands shook a little. Knowing it was dumb to be so nervous, she clasped them together to stop their trembling and stood, beginning to pace the room. She wasn't going to change her mind again, no way. This was it. Beetle and Booster would be there any minute, and she was just going to say hi and introduce her real self like it was no big deal.

But it was.

Identities were the biggest thing to people like them. It kept you safe and uninvolved, protected from caring too much or losing too much – and it kept the people you loved safe. They pissed people off for a living and it was hardly legal, even if the people of the city loved their new heroes, so anonymity was kind of everything.

"They're your team," Felicity said to herself sternly. "They're your_ friends_. This is simple, you tell them. _You tell them_."

Resolved, her heart still jumped half a mile when there was a key in the door and it was opening, time seeming to become sluggish as it was pushed open, as if wading through mud, painfully slow to her as she felt the whole world change again. This was it. _You tell them_. Booster walked in first, talking obnoxiously loudly about something, Ted's signature laugh following him a second later.

When they looked up to find the room occupied, both heroes stopped dead in their tracks. It was the longest Felicity had seen either of them be quiet, staring at her with open mouths until she was starting to feel like a fish out of water, smoothing down her skirt in a nervous gesture.

She decided to make the most of the opportunity, "So, before either of you says anything-"

Beetle interrupted, finding his voice in time to take another step towards her, disbelieving. "_Felicity_?"

She blinked, "How did you-"

"Oh my god, Felicity!" Beetle shouted, "It's you! This can't be – no, _no way_. All this time, it was you," he was running his hands around his hair, looking to Booster to check he wasn't the only one seeing this. "Is this happening?"

Booster raised his eyebrows, nodding. "It's happening."

Beetle laughed loudly then, doubling over as it bubbled up inside him hysterically. He turned back to Felicity, taking two large steps towards her and collecting himself when she stepped away, still looking confused. "It was you all along. _Of course_ it was."

"Will you _please_ tell me what's going on?" Felicity finally demanded, not liking the reaction. She had never seen either of them this closely before, but something was already nagging at the back of her mind. There was something so familiar about both of them, it burned to be found out but she wasn't thinking straight enough to put the pieces together. She snapped, "Beetle!"

In answer, the blue-clad man stood straight again and looked right at her. The Blue Beetle took of his glasses and pushed his suit away from his face, and suddenly the universe made sense again.

"_Ted_?" Felicity spluttered out, eyes bulging out of her head as she stared at him. Shaking her head a little, she took a step forward and punched him on the arm. It was solid under her knuckles, definitely real and not a dream and she nearly fell over in shock.

"Ow!"

Felicity looked even more surprised than he did at the confirmation he was real, this was happening, _Ted_ was the _Blue Beetle_.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she exploded.

Ted countered, "Why didn't you tell _me_?!"

"Because I moved in with you to get _away_ from superheroes and then I never wanted the lines to blur between_ this_ and _me _when I started working with the Beetle!" she shouted back, being loud mostly out of shock and not real anger. "I just – I-" Felicity blinked hard, shaking her head and focusing on Booster. Her eyes narrowed, "Mikey?"

"Yeah?" Booster looked up, grinning. Following Ted's suit, he took of his goggles and revealed his true identity, looking at his feet in shame. "To be fair, Ted's been lying to you way longer than I have, _so_ . . ."

"Traitor," the brown haired man replied, scowling at his giggling friend. But then he turned to Felicity quickly, eyes narrowing. "Hold up, right now. You know the Canary and that other guy – when you went all distant before and talked about not getting attached . . . what the hell happened to you, Felicity?"

She winced, looking up at him with scrunched up eyes and a hopeful smile. "I, uh. Well, the thing is-" Felicity decided to just spit it out, finishing quickly, "Back in Starling I worked with the Arrow."

"_What_?" Ted and Michael asked in unison, eyebrows hitting the ceiling. Mikey recovered first, gushing on. "That guy is like an urban legend! Are you serious right now?!"

"For nearly three years," she confirmed, elaborating generally but wary of revealing Oliver's identity to them; that wasn't her secret to tell. "I was his IT girl, like I am with you guys. We were . . . partners? Allies? I thought we were friends but then, well, _stuff _happened. I moved here to get away from him."

"Wait," Ted shook his head incredulously, holding up a finger. He caught Felicity's eye and held it, knowing he'd be able to see a lie there if she tried to tell one. "_Queen_ is the Arrow?"

Felicity said nothing, and that confirmed his suspicious. Ted turned and paced angrily, muttering to himself about how he knew he should have punched that guy and how he definitely was going to next time he had a meeting in Starling.

But after a few seconds, Ted stopped grumbling, lines on his face erased by a sound behind him. Inexplicably, Felicity was _laughing_. He turned to see her face split into a grin, hand on her head as she out loud, uncaring, laughed. Glancing over, Ted could see Booster grinning too, and when all three shared a glance, they burst into hysterics.

"I'm sorry," Felicity said after a few minutes, waving a hand and red in the face. "It's just – think about how crazy this is. We've been living together for_ months_, hiding the same thing."

Ted shook his head, "So every time I asked you what you were doing on the computer before I rushed out . . ."

"I was too busy trying to keep 'the Beetle' out of trouble to notice you always left five minutes before he showed up," she laughed again. "That's . . ."

"Brilliant," Ted finished. He looked at her, and she at him. "I said you'd save the world."

For a brief moment, it was perfect; then Felicity's smile faltered, slipping from her face in seconds. Putting a steadying hand on her arm, Ted worriedly tried to comfort her as she stepped away quickly, putting space between them and extending her arm as a barrier.

"Ted, this . . . this isn't good," Felicity said quietly, eyes softening from joy to fear. "Y-You can't keep doing this now, I-" A few tears leaked from her eyes, trailing down her face as she tried to hide it, half turning away. Putting a hand to her lips, Felicity calmed herself before turning back to sets of matching concerned faces. "This life is _dangerous_. You're not a soldier or trained for this! You could _die_, Teddy. And I_ can't_, I can't let you do that. We have to stop."

He reached out to touch her arm and she let him. "Felicity, I get it. This is scary now, because it's _us_, doing this together. But I feel better knowing it's you watching over me, my _best friend_ – you'd never let me down."

"I have seen this life ruin people lives; I've seen it _kill_ people. People I knew. I thought . . . with the Beetle, things could be different. It wouldn't like with Oliver when sometimes I was so scared of losing him that I couldn't _breathe_, because I didn't know you, and I could be . . . disconnected." She let out a shaky breath, still crying, but slower. "But now I do know, _how_ could I send you out there when I know you could get hurt? Who would that make me?"

"Felicity _freaking_ Smoak," Ted said strongly. He leaned closer and kept a hand on her shoulder, comforting but at the same time, not letting her gaze leave his own. "You are going to save the world. As you; as Kerberos – it's all the same. That's who you are, and I have a promise to keep, so it's who I am, too."

Booster tried to lighten the mood, joking. "I just do it because I'm a glory hound."

Felicity allowed a watery laugh at that, Ted's worried eyes never leaving her. It took her only a moment to get upset again however, visions of Ted hurt and dying facing someone like Deathstroke conjured in her mind vividly. She couldn't lose him. Not like she lost Oliver.

"I can't," she shook her head, pleading with him to understand with her eyes as she tried to step back but was kept close by the hand on her shoulder. "I couldn't lose you, okay? It would _kill _me."

Seeing her distress, Ted put his other hand on her cheek, cupping it and bringing their foreheads together. Telling her softly to breathe, he waited until she was calmer before he looked her in the eyes, so close now.

"Felicity, listen to me. What are we? Huh? What are we?"

She replied tearfully, broken up face shining back at his, "Family."

"Yeah, we are," Ted nodded in confirmation, forehead rocking against her own. He was crying a little bit too, not that he'd admit it when Booster teased him later. "If either of us does this, I am glad we can do it together. There's no one I'd want watching my back more. That is what family does. It protects you so much it _hurts_, and loves you enough that you always come back around. "

"It's too dangerous-"

Ted shook his head, but was smiling madly again. "_Life's_ dangerous. You – you were doing this on your own without me, and that thought is terrifying. But I know I will do anything to keep you safe. And you'll do the same."

Felicity threw her arms around him then, burying her face in the blue fabric of his uniform and asking herself why she was still crying. Feeling his hands come around her in a heartbeat, catching in her hair and cradling it, she knew why. Ted was her comfort; a safety net she'd had for so long the thought of jumping without it was . . . _unthinkable_.

He had to be safe, she had to keep him safe: but he was right – he was safer with her watching his back. Alone, he wouldn't have got half as far.

Felicity lifted her head from Ted's shoulder to see Michael standing in the corner with his head down, awkwardly trying to blend into the furniture. He had become so much of a normality in her life too, it was hard to imagine it without him too. Catching his eye, Felicity held out a hand.

Uncertainly, he took it, pulled into the hug a second later. There was laughing again, and it took Felicity a second to recognise it as her own. Mixed between the two men and faint smell of sweat and dust, the tears on her face like a mask, but drying, the air around cool where the water had stained her cheeks; Felicity smiled. Pulling them tighter, Felicity bunched her hands in the back of Ted and Mikey's uniforms, dreading the moment she would have to let go.

Ted took the decision away from her, detangling himself from the embrace to sling an arm around her shoulder instead, sighing contently at his own good fortune. He wasn't alone, as he feared he would be. He had the two greatest people in the world at his sides.

"We are gonna do _so much_," he said aloud, something burning of hope and change in his eyes. "This team, this city – guys, we can do anything."

"Well, probably not _everything_," Michael countered, pulling a face. He winked at Felicity. "I don't think there's a force on earth that can make you not be a dork."

Ted slapped him on the back of the head and laughed, shoving Booster towards the couch. They squabbled until the blonde fell all the way, face planting into the cushions. Shaking his head, Ted turned back to Felicity, gesturing with his head that they should all go and sit down. They had a lot to talk about.

But her face was still astonied, face pale and eyes staring at nothing, away from the present. When he reached out and took her hand, lacing their fingers together and hoping the steady pressure would be reassuring enough for now, Ted broke her from the spell. Felicity looked up, blinking hard, and desperately squeezed back.

"Hey, hey, you know what family means?" Ted asked, trying to reassure her a final time. "_It means I'm never going to leave you_."

* * *

_Month four_

When Team Arrow arrived in Chicago, the first place they went to was Felicity's front door. No one answered when they rang the bell, awkwardly standing in full leather costume in the lavish hallway leading to Felicity and Ted's apartment – which encompassed the entire top floor of one of the most expensive developments in the city. It was intimidating, and Roy was just starting to worry about what would happen if one of the neighbours stumbled upon them when Oliver kicked down the door.

"Was that necessary?" the red-uniformed man asked, following the Arrow into the dark apartment.

He went to the light switch, which he remembered the location of from when he'd visited and instantly the room was filled with light, revealing a living room which didn't look, well, lived in. The apartment appeared empty and had been for days, he deducted from the sickly smell of vaguely rotting fruit from the kitchen and the scrunch of paper underneath his feet as he crossed the threshold.

"You've got mail," Diggle remarked dryly as Roy kneeled to collect the letters beneath his feet – bills, business contracts, a pizza leaflet – the usual stuff. He showed the other man, keeping one eye on Oliver, who was searching the other rooms. Diggle shouted loud enough for them all to hear, "She's not here! From the build up of mail, I'd say that nobody's been here in a few days."

"Then where is she?" Oliver asked, walking back into the room with heavy steps.

"Work, probably," Sara provided, "Her computer station is there. When we were here last, she was pretty glued to the place."

The Arrow's eyebrows jumped up angrily, and Sara realised her mistake when he spoke, tone acid. "When you were here last? And who is '_we_', exactly?"

Roy winced, screwing his eyes up tightly. Shoulders raised, he tried not to look Oliver in the eye, but his mentor rounded on him instantly when Sara didn't answer, cocking his head with the expression of a disappointed parent. "So you and Sara knew Felicity was working with the Beetle for _how long_, Speedy?"

Feeling the familiar kick of irritation at the name that wasn't his, Roy bristled and spoke calmly. "Felicity asked for our help, _as her friends_, and we gave it to her. It was to keep her safe-"

"You_ lied_ to me."

"You left that as our only option!" Roy shouted back, stepping towards and not away from the older man. The pace of his words and the diction left in no doubt his irritation, spat out quickly and precisely; something said before in his head, rehearsed. "What you did to her was_ cold_, man. I don't blame her for not calling you for help, but she called and asked us to lend a hand, so we did. Did you really think she'd just sit on the sidelines after leaving Starling? There was no chance. None of us could just . . . give this up. So yeah, me and Canary helped Felicity and the Beetle on a case and yeah, we knew she was doing this again – but you can't be mad at us for that."

"He's right," Sara agreed frankly. "You're our friend, she's our friend. We'd never deny either one of you help if you asked. Now, if we could all please re-focus and get to Kord Industries, or do you want to continue your dumb display of male ego?"

Oliver huffed, but stomped out of the apartment all the same. In the van, they made it to K.I in record time, ignoring traffic lights and in fact rules of the road – but it was late, and the streets were blissfully quiet. They made it to the glass building to find not a single light on.

"You see – empty!" the Arrow growled as they arrived to an empty office. Not turning the light on, he walked over to the chair and hit the keyboard, waking the machines from sleep to a blue Kord Industries logo, nothing suspicious or remotely useful. "She's not here. The Beetle is missing – what if Felicity is, too?"

"Have you tried calling her?" Diggle asked. When Oliver froze, he got his answer and grumpily fished his cell from his jacket pocket. "Damn, why do you have to make everything a struggle? She'll be fine."

He paused, holding up a finger to silence Oliver when he tried to speak and waited for an answer, feeling relief flood him when the line clicked – repleaced by dread when a male voice answered.

"Uh, Felicity's phone? She's a little busy right now."

"Who is this?"

"A friend," the voice answered, hesitating a little. "Can I take a message?"

Diggle was getting impatient. "Is Felicity with you right now? Tell her John Diggle is calling and is currently in her empty office with our former employer and our other _friends_."

The information was muffled, but relayed, and a moment later a new voice was on the phone. It was barely there, thick with emotion but definitely Felicity. "Digg? Now really isn't a good time for you to be here or for Oliver to shout at me, so-"

"We're here to _help_, I promise. No one's mad," Diggle replied calmly, glaring at Oliver as he said so. It was a 'don't you dare even think about reading Felicity the vigilante riot act right now' look. He had it down. "But right now we're standing in your office and can't do anything – we know the Beetle is missing, and that you're working with him. Let us in."

"Come to Ted's office, I'll meet you there. It's the top floor."

Murmuring words of acknowledgement, Diggle ended the call and lead his team to the nearest elevator. Any other time, three costumed vigilantes and him in an employee elevator at once would be a cause to laugh, but there wasn't a cheerful face among them as they rose, the walk to Mr. Kord's office a funeral march.

Felicity was waiting there, eyes red rimmed and leaning against the desk like she might fall without it's support. Faded, her lips almost smiled at the sight of them as they walked in. But it was nothing like her usual glow, face grey as they approached.

Sara hit her like a cannonball, hugging the smaller woman immediately; Felicity returned the hug, grateful someone was there for her. Closing her eyes for a second, she appreciated the comfort before straightening, Diggle coming forward to touch her arm affectionately while Oliver hung back in the doorway, not wanting to overstep. He knew he had things to make up to her, but right now finding Beetle was the priority – their relationship could be salvaged later, right now Felicity needed the Arrow, not Oliver Queen.

"Tell us what happened," he asked, voice the gruff tone of his alter ego.

It was what she needed: snapping to attention immediately, Felicity walked to the wall behind Ted's desk. It held a shelf with several photographs and knick-knacks; glancing back at them once, she reached behind a photo of herself and Ted in their college years, sitting on the lawn outside of MIT with matching grins, she hit a button and the whole wall retracted, revealing another elevator.

"What the hell?" Roy asked, walking over to it with wide eyes. "What is this?"

"Access to our base of operations," Felicity confirmed, gesturing for them all to get in. It was a tight fit, but they managed it; she got in last and the doors closed. An electronic voice asked for an access code, and she replied, "Vocal verification: Kerberos."

The elevator moved swiftly and silently, more high-tech and tube like than the employee one that the rest of Team Arrow had just left. It made no sound and moved quickly, reaching it's destination beneath the foundations of the buildings in under a minute – it was designed for speedy call to action.

The doors opened again silently, and Team Arrow walked out to a spacious concrete room: it was filled with computers and work benches, a landing pad with a machine shaped like an enormous bug in one corner, and a yellow man waiting at the console. With open mouths of shock and slight jealousy: it was so much bigger than the Foundry, and more equipped, they slowly walked to the nearest railing and looked down on the main area.

Turning to them, Felicity shrugged. "Welcome to the Beetle Cave."

* * *

**A/N: yeah yeah, more going over the same things. This is what Felicity &amp; Co have been up to while Oliver was avoiding listening to the whole message. So it's the Blue and the Gold (and Gold again). **


	15. One more try

**'One more try'**

"How long has Beetle been missing?" Oliver asked, voice grim. He kept his tone impersonal, not speaking Ted's name aloud: it kept his head where it needed to be, and not on the way there were dark circles under Felicity's eyes and her hands shook as they reached out to brush along the railings as she lead them into the base.

They walked into the main hub of the 'Beetle Cave', his eyes lingering on the wall as they passed, which held tacked up news clippings about the Blue Beetle; it was proud in a way he'd never been about the Arrow persona. But they had something to be proud _of_: the papers heralded him as hero, not a vigilante. It sounded like they were doing good in a way he never could from the headlines.

Beetle _saves_ family always sounded better than Arrow_ kills_ businessman, no matter how corrupt the man was. He'd stopped killing now, but there was a stain on his name that could never be cleaned.

The rest of the space was more of a lab than a base of operations. Oliver counted four separate work tables, each cluttered with half finished projects, several variations of some kind of gun he had seen the Blue Beetle carry on the news, blueprints, saws, coffee cups and engineering equipment he didn't even know the name of. It was cluttered, so different from the Foundry and its immaculate uniform stands and weapon cases.

Then there were the silly scribbles on the edges of paper claiming 'Booster was here' and doodles of extravagant new gadgets that were scientifically unlikely and cartoonish. It was a frivolous space, through and through - Oliver wasn't surprised one of them had ended up missing.

If they were lucky, Ted wouldn't be dead.

Despite his feelings towards the other man, the Arrow started to hope that he was alive. For Felicity, whose voice shook and looked like she hadn't slept in days. Ted's death would hurt her the most.

"Four days," Felicity said. "We were down here just . . . hanging out. There was an emergency services call over the radio and it seemed like nothing – routine, a disturbance further up the coastline. Ted left. He said he could handle it, we didn't think-" she cut off, voice getting higher the longer she went on, eyes glassy again. "He never came back."

The yellow man had watched them warily as they approached, lights reflecting off the visor of his costume but not quite obscuring the dark eyes underneath, hands clenched into a fist as his side. Like Felicity, he wore exhaustion in his posture; his mouth was pinched into a thin line as the movement of his jaw told Oliver that he was biting the inside of his lip.

Paling at her words, the blonde man sighed. "It was my fault. I should've gone with him."

"Michael, no-"

"It's true! I should have been with him, we're supposed to be a team," Michael shouted, taking a few steps away from them, outside Felicity's reach when he fingers touched his arm. "And _secret identity_, Felicity."

Any other time, Felicity would have rolled her eyes as she replied. As it was, a long, drawn out sigh left her, deflating as she sat back in her chair. "Mikey, you're from the future. All your documents are faked anyway, I don't think it matters that they know who you are."

"He's from the _future_?" Roy whispered loudly to Sara, who shrugged. She'd seen weirder.

"And what could you have done?" Felicity went on, levelling Michael with her strongest gaze. "We don't know the variables – anything could have happened, with you there or without. You couldn't have done anything, as far as we know."

"I could have made sure Ted didn't go alone!" Michael shouted. He shook his head, irate, and suddenly he was floating a few off the ground. "I've got to go. I'll call you if I find anything."

As he shot upwards towards a hatch in the concrete ceiling, a yellow aura of light surrounding him in flight which was slightly mesmerising to watch, Michael hit a button on his suit linked up to the base and the hatch opened, revealing a starlit sky. He flew straight until he vanished, Felicity's eyes on her friend as he left mouth open like she wanted to call him back but finding nothing to say. She looked more defeated than Oliver had ever seen her; more than their argument, than when she left.

He walked quietly behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. For a few seconds, she just let it lie there, a quiet comfort Oliver hadn't been convinced she wouldn't refuse. After, she stood up, turning to nod to him before stepping out of his grasp towards the computers.

If Oliver's hand lingered where she was for a moment, no one noticed.

"Beetle was wearing a tracer, but it went dark a couple of hours after he'd left. That was when we were starting to think something might be wrong – the tracer just confirmed it. It was in his goggles, and could only have been broken if _he_ was," Felicity's voice cracked as she pulled up specs for the Beetle's goggles, showing the tracer. Next to it on the screen, she pulled a map and pointed to two yellow dots. "That's where the call was – we checked out the scene, but couldn't find much but what looked like a blast on one of the walls," she explained, pointing to the dot on the left. "That is the last point of broadcast we got from the tracer before it went offline. It's a cave on the coast – Michael went, but there was nothing there."

"What about enemies?" Sara asked, standing on Felicity's direct left. "Before this happened, was there anyone in particular you'd pissed off? Anyone you'd tangled with before?"

Felicity shook her head. "Everyone we've ever gone after is still in Belle Reve, or a psychiatric unit."

"And current cases?" Diggle put in.

"We had been working on clearing out an underground fighting pit, but it was slow progress. We didn't know who was in charge of the entire operation so we've been trying to follow the chain of command through the big boss' top lieutenants who handle the finances of the pit. But they didn't even know we were investigating them," Felicity answered. "I don't think it's them."

"So you have _no _suspects?" Oliver asked. There was a bite in his tone he didn't intend to be there, but the lack of leads didn't leave them with much but blindly combing the city looking for Beetle. If it was an unknown attacker, there weren't high chances of just stumbling into them – Ted was as good as dead.

"I don't know!" Felicity said loudly, frustration leeching in to her own voice. Slamming her fist against the desk, she got to her feet and pushed past him, taking a few steps away and pausing at a different work bench. Slowly, she got her strained breathing under control, fingers reaching to brush against the half-finished gadget laying there. "I don't _know_, okay? I just – I've been trying to figure it out for days but there's _no one_ and-"

"Hey, it's okay," Oliver told her, finding his senses again. Hands stretched out, he walked towards her and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her easily until she faced him, eyes red rimmed but with no tears left, resigned to bad news. He never wanted her to lose the hope he always saw in those eyes, but her gaze held nothing but despair. "We're going to find Ted; I promise. Felicity, look at me – _I promise_. I keep my promises. I _will_ find Ted."

Felicity nodded numbly, but he saw her recognise the gravity of his promise to her. Her head tilted towards him for a second before it landed firmly on his chest, angled up towards his neck as her hands balled into the fabric of his jacket at the back, clasping for something solid and real, something that was there.

Left hand closing around her back, Oliver felt the world melt away. The embrace was fragile: Felicity's small, shallow breaths shook the steadiness of his arms, and he worried that she would fall if he let her go. But Felicity Smoak was never finished surprising him with her strength – she pulled back after a minute, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be."

"But-"

"You're friend is missing and you're hurt, you don't have to apologise for that," Oliver told her sternly, hand going to her elbow again; a constant touch, a brief reassurance. "We all know how that feels. And I will find Ted – I think double-checking the scene of the original 911 call would be the best place to start while we have no other leads."

Felicity nodded, a little more sure of herself now. "Okay. _Okay_. But I'm coming too."

A fleeting smile crossed her lips, the kind she used to give him. Then she was walking past him, grabbing her coat and laptop and gesturing for them all to follow them, steely look in her eye. Her heels clicked against the stone, strides long and even, heading up a small step of metal stairs a moment later and leading up to something that resembled a helicopter landing pad.

"What the hell is _that_?" Roy asked, staring at the oddly shaped vehicle in delight, edges of his pale lips flicking up in joy.

"Oh," Felicity turned to them, hitting a button on her phone which opened the door, dropping down a ramp for them to enter to hull. "This is The Bug."

* * *

"Damn," Diggle cursed loudly, feet leading him to stand in front of the harbour wall.

Back arched up to see the wall, much bigger than any of them, he let out a low whistle at the burn covering a large section of the concrete, black and charring; a scar on the landscape. It was about halfway up the thirty foot sea wall, which was supposed to stop the force of the waves from destroying the coastline during high tide. Part of the concrete was indented in the middle of the burn, exposed pale white and scattering large chunks of it onto the grey sand under his feet, cordoned off by the cops in a hundred yard radius, leaving them alone on the beach.

Dawn was fast approaching, a few hours away still, but enough for the horizon to be grey instead of black as pitch, the sun struggling to climb into the sky above the choppy waves. This was the prime time for their investigation – late enough that most of the other criminals have given up and gone to bed, early enough to investigate without having to dodge the public. The quiet suited all of them as they surveyed the scene, desolate apart from the burn in the wall, an angry mark none of the heroes assembled could tear their eyes away from.

"That's . . ." Sara started, but trailed off to stare at the burned scar. Her head shook a little in disbelief – she had seen blasts and bombs and damage enough to last ten lifetimes, but never anything quite like this.

Felicity's voice was grim as she walked to stand at the foot of it, "I know."

"What did the original call say?" Oliver spoke up. He was standing further back, trying to see the bigger picture of damaged caused – but it was hard to try and put together what could have happened, the sea had already washed away any evidence from the beach, leaving only the burn mark untouched so far, with seasonal calm waves not reaching high enough to erase it. "Were there any specifics? Has this been a problem area before?"

"No, not at all. We usually stick to the city, there's never any crime this far up the coast," Felicity shook her head. Calls this far out rarely registered their attention – Chicago and the Lake Michigan area by Kord Industries was their main grounds – but this place, a few miles up the shore's coastline – it was unknown to them. "As far as I know, Ted had never been here before. The call was routine, but big enough to get our attention – a disturbance, likely not domestic, that two officers had been dispatched to investigate and then stopped responding. The police were sending more officers on the dispatch we intercepted, and Ted said he'd go, but he didn't think it was anything to worry about." She sighed a little, wincing. "'Probably just some old crank fishermen having a scuffle', he said. I shouldn't have listened."

"It's not your fault, Felicity." Diggle was beside her in an instant, putting an arm around her shoulders. Knowing she appreciated physical contact at times like this, but_ always_, Felicity wanted answers more, he let go and pointed to the burn mark. "Look, this isn't from a fire – it's not an ordinary burn. I'd say it looked like a bomb blast, but look – the directionality of the burn is all wrong for that. It doesn't go out, it veers to the left," his arm swept across the line of the burn, showing her. "That suggests a targeted blast. But . . . well, I've never seen anything like it."

She nodded, agreeing. "The first time I was here, I got my computer to run a crime scene scan – whatever caused this must have been putting out temperatures of over a thousand degrees Fahrenheit. But that's impossible – there's no weapon designed that wouldn't melt under that much pressure."

"Not even ARGUS has that sort of technology," Diggle confirmed.

"What about STARLabs?" Oliver asked, calling over to them. "Have you heard from Caitlin or Cisco lately?"

"Not in a while," Felicity shook her head. Another wrack of guilt seized her for a few seconds. _Barry_. He was still in a coma, and she'd forgotten to visit for months. She had been so wrapped up in playing a hero she hadn't even thought to call. "I've been . . . busy. But I don't think this has anything to do with them. Since the accelerator explosion they haven't exactly been the height of new developments. And why would they attack the Blue Beetle?"

Oliver nodded, seeing the logic behind her reasoning. But there had to be someone out there with technologies advanced to create a focus, high-intensity blast and a grudge match against Beetle. "Have you considered the possibility that whoever took him had a grudge against_ Ted_ and not the Beetle?"

"Ted doesn't have any enemies! Oliver, he's a good guy. He's good to his employees and his city – there's no one who'd want to hurt him," Felicity said. The conviction in her voice when she turned to look at him hurt Oliver a little, until he realised that was ridiculous. But she obviously believed in her friend so much she was blind to any grievances against him – which meant she might have missed something. But Felicity was already blinking away the fresh worry and turning back to the wall, carrying on in a quieter tone. "No, this _has_ to be a Beetle thing. We're just missing _something_."

Oliver wanted to argue the point, but a stern shake of Sara's head in his direction silenced him. Taking a breath, he re-prioritised. There was nothing there but a burn in a wall and no clue to what made it. Felicity couldn't think of a lead when it came to who would want to hurt him. All they had left was the last recorded co-ordinates of his tracer.

"We know something," Oliver said instead, and everyone turned to face him; Felicity's were the only eyes he met. "Ted was alive when he left here."

She blinked, "_How_ can you know that?"

"If he was caught up in that blast, there would be nothing left of him," Oliver replied, but it sounded harsher than he had intended. "The GPS tells us he was brought to another place, _in one piece_. He left here _alive_, Felicity. And why would whoever took him bother moving him if they were just going to kill him anyway?"

Shaking her head, Felicity shrugged, having no answer to that. There was something like hope in the way she looked at him now.

"There's something about this," Oliver looked at the wall, then back to her. "I know you believed Ted had no enemies, but this seems _personal_. Planned. He was taken somewhere else because whoever took him had bigger plans that incinerating him."

"Is this supposed to be making me feel better?" Felicity asked, face suddenly aghast. It was cold on the beach, but not enough to make her tremble the way she was, arms wrapped around herself and staring at him with wide eyes, hair clinging to her face in the light rain which had begun to fall as they arrived.

"I didn't mean it like-"

"Yeah, you never do," she snapped back. Felicity shook her head, walking back up towards the beach, but Oliver chased after her, catching her by the arm and turning her to a face him again.

"Felicity, I'm telling you I think he's _alive_!" Oliver shouted, "Listen to me, I_ know_ I hurt you. I get it now. I was wrong. I admit it! But I'm trying to make it right by helping you save the person who didn't let you down, and I_ believe_ Ted is alive. Nobody would go to all this effort to kill him so soon – if we can find him, we can save him."

Gulping down the rest of the words he wanted to say, Oliver let go of her arm, giving Felicity the chance to walk away. She had every right not to listen to him. But instead of turning, she stayed close, her mouth opened in what could have been shock, he couldn't tell; the world was a blur, all he could see was slight rain and hair like sunshine.

Oliver knew it changed nothing. He had still said and did the things he did, and he couldn't change that. But what he could do was make sure she was never alone. He could bring Ted home to her, and she could be happy. He wanted to tell her all of this, but it wasn't the fair thing to do. Felicity had offered him everything, and his own stupid, selfish fear of not wanting to get hurt any more had pushed her away, when really he should have been holding on to her and all her light for dear life.

The future was always uncertain. Oliver understood that now, too late. There was never a way to predict life's twists and turns, and sudden falls of cliffs - but you could choose who was beside you for the ride. He had been too scared of the ending to choose the person who made him happier than anyone else on this earth, and now it wasn't fair to tell her that he'd changed his mind and wanted her in every way imaginable. A friend, an ally, a partner. A wife, one day.

But telling her any of that would just hurt her more, so he pressed his lips together, feeling the water from the rain pool there.

For a moment, she stared at him and leaned towards him just a fraction of an inch. There was a tug in his gut to pull her closer; Oliver thought Felicity was going to kiss him for a second, but then her gaze sharpened and her hand fell instead to his shoulder for support. With a swift nod, she accepted the things he had told her.

"You're forgiven, Oliver," she told him, like it was that easy. "I forgave you months ago. Now I _need _you. If you really do believe Ted is alive – help me find him."

* * *

At the last broadcasted co-ordinates of Ted's tracer, a cave that was barely more than a crack in a cliff face another twenty miles away, they found a piece of metal. It was lodged into the rock at the back of the cave, found by Roy and handed to Felicity, who wordlessly frowned at the object.

There was something familiar about it. It was there at the back of her mind, prickling, an itch she couldn't quite scratch. It _meant _something – if she could just remember_ what_.

But it was coated in mud and oil, half infused with the rock and seawater which had battered it, bent out of shape. She would have to clean it properly to get a better look at what the metal really was, to see if that could jog her memory.

Exhausted physically and of places to go, they headed back to the 'Beetle Cave', Felicity flying the Bug with ease from months of watching Ted do it, going through the motions without thinking. Her head was elsewhere, on the piece of metal in an evidence bag on the dashboard, and the unsettling feeling that she had seen it somewhere before.

* * *

"How're you holding up?"

A large hand landed on her shoulder, pretty much covering it, and Felicity leaned into John Diggle. There were a lot of people in her life that made her feel safe, but nobody quite like him. And Felicity didn't believe in the whole 'you can only have one best friend' bullshit. Diggle was her best friend just as much as Ted was, they were just major parts of her life at different times in different places, but neither light diminished the other. It just made it brighter.

"I'm putting all of my remaining energy, which is about 8%, into focusing totally on cleaning this," she gestured to the lump of mud and metal on the work bench in front of her. "And repressing thinking about anything else than the sole task at hand to the point where I think I've tricked my brain into a false sense of calm. I feel numb. But hey, at least I'm not breaking down anymore."

Diggle exhaled air from his nose in what would have been a laugh, understanding her completely. They were all soldiers, but didn't know it; that calm in an emergency was a feeling he knew intimately.

Squeezing the shoulder under his hand, he turned Felicity's chair around. "You need to sleep. I'll finish this – just find a couch, anything, and _rest_. You can't help if you're running on fumes."

"But that's very delicate-"

"Felicity," Diggle laughed. "I've disarmed bombs with nothing but a pocket light to see, I can clean some mud off metal in a well lit lab. Sleep. _Go_."

He pointed to the door, and she relented. Standing, Felicity paused just long enough to lean against his shoulder in silent thanks before walking across to a side room, in which was a small cott and blanket. Waiting until he saw the light go out beneath the door, Diggle glanced around the room – Roy was also asleep, on the chair in front of the monitors with his feet on the desk; Sara was trying to contact the other member of Felicity's team, 'Booster Gold', who was refusing to answer his comms; Oliver was staring at the wall of pictures.

That left him to clean the clue, not that Diggle minded in the slightest. It was a lead, which was more than they had when they had left that evening.

So he worked quietly and diligently in his corner for almost three hours straight, so focused on his task that he didn't notice the time pass or move aside from his methodical swiping of cotton wool over the object and spraying with water from the surgical bottle to his right. By the time the true shape of the object emerged, having been obscured completely by the mud and rock, it was way past dawn, not that any of the light reached them.

Slowly, a shape emerged. And a colour, bright and burning.

In his palm, Diggle held a small, metallic, blue beetle. A scarab, to be exact.

"Felicity!" he shouted, getting to his feet and jumping down the staircase to the main level of the base, startling everyone. Roy flinched awake, as did Felicity, who emerged at a run herself, the urgency in Diggle's voice reviving her quickly. "Look at this – it means something, right?"

"Let me see," she said, reaching his side and grabbing an oily rag from the nearest workbench to hold the object with, careful not to let it touch her skin. Diggle dropped it onto the fabric and she finally got a proper look at it: Felicity's face dropped. Losing colour in her face instantly, she shook her head slightly. "Oh my god."

"What is it?" Sara asked.

"No, no, _no_. Not good."

Felicity wasn't listening to them, crossing the room without even a glance at Oliver as she passed, quick eyes scanning the wall of photos and clippings for something specific. She found it in under a minute, tearing an old, worn in newsclipping from the wall and bringing it over, dropping both it and the scarab on a workbench. Staring at them in comparison, Felicity's fears were confirmed as her former team gathered around to see what she had connected.

"Who is that?" Diggle said, pointing to the picture. It showed an older man wearing a costume unlike any of theirs – but the metal beetle he had just uncovered rested in the middle of his belt, clear as day.

"Dan Garrett," Felicity replied breathlessly. "The first Blue Beetle."

"There was another Blue Beetle?"

"He died," she said, struck with fear. "Dan was _murdered_ – he asked Ted to take the name as he lay dying. If this has anything to do with him-"

Oliver spoke up, seeing her distress. "We don't know that for certain yet, Feli-"

"Kerberos," Felicity corrected voice cold. "In the field, I'm Kerberos."

"Fine, whatever," Oliver relented, not seeing her fury yet. "_Kerberos_, we can't be sure what's happened yet."

"No, but I know something now. I know where to go," Felicity said, straightening and grabbing both things from the bench.

She turned and ran towards the Bug, knowing they would only be a few steps behind. In her chest was a three-headed dog, Kerberos, more deadly than any arrow or gun or blaster. And it was roaring. There was something deadly just behind her eyes, a desperate sort of anger that was more serious than any other kind – there was nothing she wouldn't do to save Ted in that moment. That made her the most dangerous person among them right then.

"We need to get to Pago Island."

* * *

**A/N: Felicity Smoak is a pissed off badass, yo. who has the scarab, which will make sense next chapter. full disclosure, I have never been to Chicago/Lake Michigan. But I needed a big-ass wall to be blown up, so it now has a coastline with a sea wall. I know I've been shit at updating this, I really am sorry, but I have six weeks now (post exam results, so a lot less stressed now I know I've gotten into uni - yAY!) to finish this. Have some sort of nice olicity moments as my apology :) **


	16. Mea Culpa

** 'Mea Culpa'**

"Booster, come in," Felicity ordered into a communicator in the Bug. She had assumed the pilot's seat with her friends standing behind her, mostly unsure what to do; Roy and Sara were leaning against the right wall to talk quietly, while Oliver kept his eyes on the horizon. "Damn it, Mikey, we found him! We know where Ted is and I need you to be here, so _answer me_."

Diggle put a hand on her shoulder, hearing the slight edge to her voice. Felicity glanced up, giving him a slight shake of her head to communicate she was fine before turning back to the communicator.

"This is Kerberos, giving you a mission. Get to the Bug. I know you can track it, so _be here_, Mikey, or don't bother showing up at all!" Felicity snapped sharply, nose pinched. "I'm not having you show up to another mission half-cocked and unprepared because you didn't listen to me. This isn't a stupid game, not like we've been acting like it is-" she frowned, self-disappointment written all over her face in the heated words. Pausing for a second, Felicity rested her head against the mic, eyes fluttering closed, and regained her coolness from before. "This is Ted's _life_. I need him back with us, safe. And I know you do too, so Michael, get back here. Be a part of the plan – or stay away. It's your choice."

With a hushed curse under her breath as she sat back, Felicity shook her blonde hair and looked up towards Oliver. "We _do_ have a plan, don't we?"

"I'm working on one."

"Care to share with the class?"

Oliver, who had been formulating said plan in his head, face turned towards the sun and not really paying attention to what was being said to him, blinked and turned his eyes to a perfectly raised eyebrow and pursed lips.

Felicity was watching him expectantly, but there was a hint of almost playful bemusement at his absent-mindedness that he ached to see. It gave him hope. Hope was something he wasn't supposed to have, not when it came to her – so Oliver coughed and turned around, facing his team and keeping his eyes level on all of them, desperate not to get caught in her gaze again.

"Whoever has Ted-"

Felicity cough-interrupted, hiding it behind a hand as she swung her seat a little. "_Field names._"

"_Beetle_," Oliver amended through gritted teeth, which he pulled off as irritated but hid a secret smile.

_This _was what he had missed the most: their team, the one he'd built with Diggle and Felicity, all together. Standing around to show that maybe he's not so alone. In the months Felicity had been gone, it hadn't been the same in the Foundry. There was something missing, a presence in the gloom down there that hung over them, all of them feeling it. It was her. _Felicity _was the missing piece. And now they were together again, and he could feel it in his bones; it felt right.

"Whoever has Beetle needs him for something, or has a personal vendetta against him and Dan Garrett. Did he ever say who it was that killed Dan?"

Felicity shook her head, eyebrows drawing together. She spoke softly, "No. He uh, he didn't talk about it, _ever_. It hurt him. More than I think he even realised – I'd catch him sometimes, just looking at the photograph. But Ted never said who it was, or why. I didn't want to ask."

"Okay," he nodded. "What about Dan Garrett? Do you have any background on him that could help?"

"Not really," she shrugged. By the look on her face, Oliver could see her internally kicking herself for not having looked into the incident – going over what she could have done. But it was misplaced. There was no way to know this would happen. He should have told her that, but Oliver stayed silent as she spoke. "Dan was dead and Ted said . . . he said the person responsible died that night, too. I don't think he'd ever seen someone die before."

At that, there was a simultaneous sound from the people in the room. It was an exhale of air, a nod of the head, a hum of pity in the back of the throat, for Ted – and for themselves. Because their hands were bloody long before this, but you never forgot your first. The first person you saw die. The first you couldn't save.

"Then we play it by ear, but smart," Oliver said. "As long as we don't aggravate their plan and push their timetable forward, whoever is behind this probably won't hurt Beetle, they won't risk all of their work going to waste. We go in quick and quiet. Stealth is key – we can't be seen: we find Beetle and try to get him out before anyone even knows we're there. Anything else . . ." he trailed off, running a hand through his short hair. "We have no idea what this person is capable of. Avoid a firefight _at all costs_."

"_Avoid_ a fight?" The voice boomed over the intercom and they all jumped, flinching before a tapping at the window drew their attention. It was Booster Gold, flying in front of the plane, listening in but answering with sarcasm. "Have you _met _us?"

Felicity sighed. "Get in here, Booster."

"Yes, K."

"How long were you outside listening?" Felicity asked, glaring him down as he flew below the plane and through a hatch in the underbelly. When he opened his mouth, she knew he would make a dumb joke about wanting to make an entrance, she would snap at him, and things wouldn't go well. To avoid all of that, she waved a hand in his direction. "It doesn't matter. How much did you hear?"

"Enough," he replied, standing bashfully. "I'm sorry, K. I was just scared and-"

"It's fine, I understand. You're forgiven," Felicity walked over to him. Her hand grazed his arm for a second, and Booster looked up and smiled at her, worry written in the creases of his face. "I'm glad you're here now."

Michael waited a moment with a hung head. Then he suddenly looked up, slow smile growing across his face. "Of course you're glad to see me," he grinned. "I've got a dumb idea."

Felicity tilted her head to the left, "What's new there then?"

"Hilarious. But in this case, my truly dumb idea might just help . . ."

* * *

Booster flew towards Pago Island, leaving a cloaked Bug in his dust, invisible to anyone who didn't know it was there. It was being flown by Roy, the least experienced in stealth of them all: Oliver learned to walk and leave nothing but a shadow on Lian Yu, Sara was a ghost trained by the League of Assassins, and Diggle had done so many covert ops with Special Forces that infiltration was in his blood. That, and Roy was the only one who could work out in five seconds how to fly the Bug from years of playing video games.

Booster had been the last to depart the familiar flying machine, having dropped Oliver on one side of the island; Diggle and Sara on the other. He was to approach by air, subtly as a flying yellow man could, and try to cover them from above. With a wink and a wave, he had left Roy sitting at the controls and stepped into thin air.

Pago Island was nothing special: dirt, rocks, soil. There was no identifying landmarks, no buildings or people, no reason why Dan or Ted had ever gone there, not that Booster could figure. But there had to be a reason, and if anyone could find it – it was the girl in his arms.

"We never speak of this,_ ever_ again," Felicity warned, voice high with fear at the sheer drop into dark waters below.

He laughed, a strained sound laced by genuine humour, like laughing at a funeral – when you know you really shouldn't be, but can't help it. Hysterical laughter. We're-about-to-die laughter. "C'mon baby, are you telling me this wasn't real?"

"I think we're better as friends," she joked weakly back. Booster was carrying her bridal style, her tiny hands digging into the back of his neck and she clung to him, face pressed into his shoulder aside from the fleeting glances she spared towards their destination, each accompanied by the paling of her face. Felicity was scared. Flying wasn't her thing, so she put her face into Booster's stupid yellow collar again and murmured. "_Definitely_ should've gone for the piggyback."

"You're fine, I've got you. Trust me."

"I do," she replied. He could hear in her voice that she didn't just mean not to drop her. Then, more quietly, "What do you think we're going to find when we get there?"

Booster's own voice turned uncharacteristically sombre. "I don't know, K."

"Do you think he's-"

"I don't know," he cut her off before she could get more emotional. "I don't know, but I hope. Ted's stronger than you give him credit for. I can't count the number of times he's picked me up or saved my life on both hands. But," Booster's voice cracked. "But if it is the thing we fear the most, if that's what we find – we've got each other. You've got more than me, in fact – just look at all the people who came just because they thought you might need them."

Felicity shook her head, still close to his collar. She was missing the island getting bigger, but the coldness of the wind on her face and wind stealing any noise but their conversation was strangely isolating from the danger they were about to walk into. A tear slid from the corner of her eye, but was dried on her face in under a minute.

"Things aren't the same as they used to be between us. There was a time . . . we were a team. They were my family."

"They still are, K. Or else they wouldn't have come."

At the words, Felicity's grip on Michael's neck became looser. Instead of hiding in fear, her head on his shoulder became a position of comfort, as close to a hug as they could get while flying at a reasonable speed towards the centre of the island; they were over a beach now. It was odd, but she hadn't even thought of it in that way yet. It had all been so chaotic with Ted going missing and her old team showing up that Felicity had forgotten that she hadn't even called them for help – they had just arrived, right when she needed them the most. Willingly. _Apologetically_.

In her head, she hadn't doubted that they would be. But put in that way – it made her ache. The feeling was rooted not in her heart but in her chest, like it was filled with something she couldn't quite describe, brimming over painfully. She had missed them. Even when she was happy, even when she was laughing with Ted and Booster, she missed them.

Felicity supposed that the difference now was that she _knew_ she could live without them. But she could also _choose_ to want them in her life. And she did, more than anything.

She would tell them, she decided, if they found Ted and survived all of this. She might even go back from time to time and help out, just to be there, just to remember. Because she wanted to. Because they were her family, as was Ted, as was Booster; no matter how many arguments or hard times that lay ahead, that would never change.

"I love you, Mikey," she said quietly. It was too raw up there to lie, so all that was left was an honest statement. She loved him. She loved Ted. She loved Diggle and Sara and Roy and damn it, she loved Oliver.

"Aw," Booster laughed. He appreciated it, face growing flush with happiness at the statement; with his sister dead, he had no one. But, he supposed, now he had them. But he chose to joke anyway, "And here I didn't think you cared."

"Aaaand the moment's ruined."

Booster laughed, and they flew in silence for a few minutes more. They were almost there now, thick rocks below them and a particularly large one in the centre of the island, where he intended to land. On the approach, he asked. "Do you think it will work? This plan?"

"Oliver believes it," Felicity answered. "I believe in _him_. If he say's this will work, it'll work. It _has_ to."

"And so I follow you into the Mouth of Hell."

It was said as a joke with a movie-esque lilt, Booster letting out an airy laugh after the statement, but Felicity frowned, burrowing her head closer into his collar.

"That's not funny."

He laughed because she was right, but there was no point in letting her know that. They flew.

* * *

For hours, the three groups searched the barren island. In the centre lay a forest, thick and green and lacking in landmines, which was preferable to Felicity's last experience on one. The edge was a beach, thick with jagged rocks and caves dotted along the cliff-face, usually just cracks ten feet deep, but Felicity and Michael checked all the ones they came across anyway.

But even after hours, nothing had been found by either group. Defeated, Felicity stood on the beach as Booster flew a couple of hundred metres ahead, looking for more caves. Tapping at the tablet in her palm, she resisted the urge to smash it into the nearest rock – it was supposed to be scanning the island for any other technology, but kept crashing. It was effectively useless, and as technology was what she brought to the table, Felicity felt like she was, too.

Ted needed them, and she was stuck standing on a stupid vibrating rock with no chance –

_Wait_.

Felicity dropped to her knee's immediately, pressing her hand into the grey stone. It was warm to the touch from the sun blaring down on her back, but underneath her palm was definitely a vibration, pulsing gently from somewhere beneath them.

"Booster! Over here!"

Felicity's mind raced as she pressed both hands to the stone, pressing them down multiple times in disbelief, mouth agape but ripping into a mad grin, punctuated by noises of relieved joy that weren't even fully words, just pure emotion. Her heart soared. She had found something, a lead – possibly straight to Ted.

Vibrations like that suggested heavy machinery, somewhere underground. Leaning down, she pressed an ear to the rock and strained to hear above the crash and ebb of waves and wind. It was hard, but Felicity closed her eyes, letting the sounds reach out to her from below. There. The clicking together of gears, the groaning of machinery – like a factory – it was close, echoing slightly.

"What are you doing?"

Booster was standing behind her with a sceptical look on his face and hands on his hips, staring at her with her face to a rock.

"Shut up and _listen_." Felicity grabbed Booster by the elbow to drag him down to her level, using her other hand to pinch him behind the knee and make it buckle. Booster fell, grumbling all the way and kind of embarrassed at being down so easily, but she was freakishly strong when it suited her. Kneeling next to felicity, he didn't even have chance to ask what was going on before she pushed his hands onto the rock below –

"Holy crap is that _humming_?"

"There's something down there," Felicity said excitedly. She was looking at him with eyes of brimming hope, like this solved anything. Booster felt his own heart kick: they hadn't found Ted yet. He worried that she was getting her hopes up too high now, so if – if the unthinkable happened, it would be all the more to fall later. But he was doing the same right beside her, desperately looking around for a way to get beneath the earth and save his best friend. Rise, fall, hope – at least they weren't alone. "It's machinery. I know it. Something big, from the sound of it – and probably with a signal jammer, which is why I haven't been able to find anything."

"There must be a way down there, then," Booster agreed. "If they got the machinery down there-"

"There has to be an entrance!"

"Maybe a cave, or-" Booster cut off, eyes catching a glint of something in the sunlight two hundred or so metres away in the cliff-face. It was there and gone in less than a second, barely a flicker – but there was something there, he'd put money on it. Image of the section of cliff burned into his memory, he got to his feet and pulled Felicity up beside him. "Look, over there."

Following the line of his slender finger, Felicity squinted her eyes in the sun towards the cliff, rewarded a few second later with another glint of sunlight hitting a reflection, proving there was something other than sand and stone there. Turning excitedly to one another, Michael spoke first.

"We should call the others."

"Right, of course." Felicity pulled a communicator from her pocket and hit a button, "Come in, everyone. We've found something. There's machinery underground here, and we think there's an entrance to wherever it is in the cliff-face. I'm leaving a tracer here so you can find it, but me and Booster are going in ahead to check it out."

"Kerberos, wait!" Oliver's voice cut through suddenly, slightly winded. "Hold back until we get there, we're stronger together-"

Felicity looked over to Booster, whose eyes hadn't left the cliff. At his sides, his hands were fists; his lips were curled into an uneasy grimace of desperation. There was no way he was waiting; and neither was she. They were _so close_.

"Beetle could be _dying_! I'm not waiting, we'll be fine. Just get here as soon as you can."

"Wait!"

But Felicity was already leaping into Booster's arms, her grip still just as tight but head facing outward this time, quick eyes locked on the glinting something in the sunlight, ready to tear apart whatever lay below them and save Ted. In the air, they flew towards the stone wall at alarming speed, a crevice in between two rocks thirty feet above beach level becoming clearer the closer they got – an entrance.

"_Felicity_-"

The rest of Oliver's sentence crackled into static as Felicity and Booster flew into the shadow of the crevice, cutting off their signal to the rest of the team. Oliver's words had gone to the wind anyway – Felicity was so focused on getting inside and finding Ted to her anything but her own hammering heart.

Darkness enveloped them, Booster flying in semi-darkness until the cave tunnelled out, looping in a long curve left and slowly descending in a way that wouldn't be noticeable – if it weren't for the sound of machinery getting louder. That logically meant they were heading deeper down into the oozy heart of the island; Michael held Felicity a little tighter.

After what could have been ten minutes or an hour, there was a light up ahead, and Booster slowed from steamroller to tricycle, still holding Felicity aloft so neither of them make footfalls or any noise but their own breathing. Stealthy, just like they planned to be.

The machinery was screaming now, loud enough for Felicity to hold her hands to her ears as they reached the end of the tunnel – which opened out into a spacious cavern, well lit and lined on every wall by large rust red machinery. It chugged loudly, producing something – they couldn't see what yet – but before they looked, they had a different priority.

"Ted!" Felicity shouted before the thought that it was a bad idea even registered.

It was a bad move, but in the precise moment she saw blue and a body in the far end of the room, it didn't matter; nothing did. Ted was there, chained to a chair and with more red on his costume than blue, goggles cracked at his feet and face uncovered. Above his eye was a deep gash, trickling blood down the side of his face steadily, but beneath that, the green eyes she would know anywhere blinked up at the sound of his name.

Ted stirred, obviously injured but _alive_. There was a second when his eyes lit up at the sight of them, bright and burning and overjoyed, but – and there was always a _but_ at moments like these, when the world finally seemed perfect after crawling with bloody hands and knees to the summit of a mountain, only to find the only thing at the top was a sheer drop – his happiness lasted for only that perfect second.

Then his eyes went still, a cold fear drowning the light as what he was seeing clicked into place, widening as his lips formed words incomprehensively a few times before his hoarse, dry voice cracked out across the space.

"No. No, no, no, no, no. You weren't supposed to find me," Ted whispered at first, seemingly to himself as he struggled against the chains binding him. He glanced down as he strained and twisted to move, but looked back up at them quickly. "You can't be here! Run, _go_, you can't be here!"

Felicity didn't have time to question his screams before a beam of orange light hit them like a truck, her and Booster flying towards the now desperately screaming Ted before a hand landing, the air crushed from her lungs on impact. Rolling until she was almost at Ted's feet, the last thing Felicity saw was him with his mouth open and shouting something at her she could no longer hear, chairs taunt and pressing into his flesh so hard it was white as he tried to reach out to her.

The room went black, and Felicity slipped into nothingness.

* * *

** A/N: it wasn't too long between updates this time, so there's that. And I keep putting off action scenes because I suck at writing them, but it looks like I'm going to have to write one next chapter, damn it. I'm going to work on a couple of one shots before the next chapter probably, but it'll be soon. review!**


	17. For Once, Then, Something

_A/N: notes at the start, to make the ending more dramatic. This is a long chapter, so far warning. also, this was supposed to be the last one but it got too long, so there's this one, another one, and a short epilogue - but it should be done soon. In this chapter a lot happens. There's a scene I forgot to write in an earlier chapter I plan to fix, a lot of parallels between Oliver/Felicity and Oliver &amp; Ted, and I try to write something sad and dramatic and I'm not sure it worked. Let me know._

**'For once, then, something'**

The throbbing in her head became more persistent with every passing second, growing in irritation until Felicity opened her eyes to a bright light, wincing and lifting a hand to shield herself. Aware she was lying on her back, she rolled until her arms supported her, the light behind her, eyes refocusing on her hands on concrete, dirt caked under her nails. Just as the confusion was beginning to set in, squinting as she struggled to remember what had happened – she had been with Booster, of that she was sure – things started to blur. A voice cut through.

"Oh, thank God," Michael said, as Felicity looked up to see him sitting a few feet away against the save wall. He was close enough that she realised he had been holding her, cradling her head in his lap until she had rolled from his security. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," she answered, high voiced ending to the sentence leaving it as a question. She wasn't so sure – her head certainly felt far from okay, but it was survivable. "You?"

"I've had worse."

Felicity felt relief flood through her chest at that, eyes flicking over him to mentally assess her friend and finding nothing other than a red mark on his cheek. Tucking her head to her chin, she let out a long breath and squeezed his hand – before her eyes flew open, head splitting with pain again as she looked around.

"Ted?!"

"I'm fine."

Ted's voice answered from just behind them, and Felicity turned to see him chained to the same chair, although he raised his fingers in an imitation of a wave when she looked over. It was a mixed expression which graced his features: half a grimace, half a smile.

Instantly, Felicity tried to get to her feet. Halfway up her head spiked, knee's buckling from the pain; luckily, Booster was still by her side, catching her easily before she could fall.

"Hey," he said, slinging her arm around his shoulder to steady her. "Let's try that again, but this time don't be an idiot about it. Let me help."

"_You _calling _me_ an idiot," Felicity joked weakly as the world slowly stopped spinning, the painful steps closer to Ted's chair giving her head a chance to catch up to her body. "This is a day I never thought I'd see."

"She's fine," Booster responded in sarcastic answer to Ted, who laughed, but looked pained. Where the chains met his skin was white as despite knowing it was pointless, as he tried to reach out to help them. As they stopped by the chair, Booster held Felicity by one arm, noticing she was already gaining colour in her face and didn't sway quite so drastically on her feet. "Do you think you'll be okay if I let go?"

She nodded yes. When Booster let go, keeping his hands a few inches away from her and open, ready to catch her if she fell again, Felicity wobbled on the balls of her feet for a moment, but shakily stood. Once she was certain of the ground beneath her feet, she met his eye more determinedly and nodded a second time, confirming her stability.

Michael respected that and stepped away, back arced as he glanced around. "What is this place?"

"A lab, kind of." Ted answered, keeping the corner of his eyes on Felicity. "When-"

He was cut off by the clang of a metal door closing across the room, echoing throughout closed space like a gunshot. Collectively flinching at the noise, Felicity sub-consciously grabbed onto the arm on Ted's chair and Booster stepped in front of her.

"Oh my God," Felicity breathed, eyes widening to take in the spectral figure approaching them. "W-what _is_ that?"

It was twenty foot tall, a metal man unlike any robot she had ever seen. Gleaming red with eyes a somehow brighter shade, burning like hellfire under shadowed sockets, embellished with golden joints and a wide belt. But for a machine – it was so _unnatural_. When it walked, it moved with a grace that shouldn't have been possible for a computer programme to reproduce; and it's voice –

It was almost _human_.

"_That_? What an insulting turn of phrase, Miss Smoak," it said, human malice somehow reproduced in it's tone. It reached them, stopping ten feet away from the trio. Even though they were nothing but slots filled with red light, the way the robot looked at her, head tilted in her direction and voice low, cruel . . . it was sinister. "I am Carapax. Conrad Carapax – and you are going to help me."

"_Me_?" Felicity gaped, mouth falling open in unrefined fear. There was no face to be found in such a monstrosity. She couldn't help the tremble in her tone. "Help _you_? What are you?"

"I _was_ an archaeologist, a mere man – I came here to find what Dan Garret died for, but somehow I was merged with this . . . this _machine_. But it is better. I am stronger, faster – I will_ never _die. And now, you have what I need to create an army of others like me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I thought the robots would be enough – and Mr. Kord could fix them alone. But then I got to think, what if they could think in the same way I could? What if they could reason and imagine – they would be more than machine, more than man. Superior. And so I needed you."

"What does any of this have to do with _me_?"

"You created A.I!" Carapax shouted, taking a step towards them. "Artificial intelligence! _Life_, Miss Smoak. Imagine what I could do with an army of _living_ machines."

"I _am_," Felicity replied, forcing herself to stand straight. "Why would I help you to do that? I_ can't_ do that. It's not possible."

"Yes, you can. You already have. There is a code you created at Kord Industries which holds the key to Artificial Intelligence," it, he, sneered. Spitting out the next sentence at Ted, the robot snarled. "I had a copy, but the Blue Beetle here destroyed it when we fought. You're going to re-create it."

"That's not true! I've never done that!" Felicity shouted back, taking a few steps forward now. That rage was boiling in her again, leaving her with clenched fists and an icy expression. When the robot just looked at her, she turned to her friend. "Ted, tell him! Tell him I've never created anything like that at Kord Industries, that it's a lie!"

"Felicity . . ."

He only said a word, but the admission of guilt was wrapped in it. Although his head was turned towards her, Ted's eyes hit the floor as soon as the met hers, to a soft chuckle of the robot behind them.

Taking a few steps back, away from him, Felicity shook her head. "No, you wouldn't-"

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Ted said, looking back up. His eyes were screaming. "I thought all this got buried, that we were safe-"

"You _tricked _me?" Felicity asked, tears forming as soon as the words crossed her lips. It was like every pain and heartache she had ever felt in her life, hitting her all at once.

"It wasn't for_ this_!" Ted shouted over the noise, voice scratchy with dehydration and desperation. "That's why I destroyed my tracer as soon as I found out what he wanted, because I knew he would come after _you_. I was trying to protect you. You weren't supposed to find me!"

The blonde woman just stared at him as if he were a stranger; behind her glasses her eyes going dark in an angry way he had only seen a few times. Felicity didn't speak for a minute, trapping him in that stare until he felt the shame choke him, wrapping like a viper around his throat and squeezing until he could no longer look at her and breathe properly.

Ted looked away first. Felicity turned to Carapax.

"Even if I could work out how to do it again, I wouldn't help you," she said coldly. Forcing her legs to work, she took confident steps towards him, drawing level with Booster, tilting her chin up to look him in his admittedly scary robot-eyes. "I won't let you hurt people. You can do what you want to me, I'll _never_ help you."

When Carapax moved, Booster was standing in front of her before she could even blink, hovering a few feet off the floor and glowing. "Hey! Don't you touch her!"

The Robot stopped, "Ah, yes. If it isn't the most useless member of your little crime-fighting group."

"Who the hell you callin' useless, tin man?"

"Beetle and Kerberos here at least have the brains for this, giving them use outside of just punching things and making imbeciles of themselves playing costumed crusaders," Carapax mused. "What do you have, Booster? Nothing. Next to them, you're nobody."

"What do I have?" Booster shouted and flew higher. Focusing, he aimed a high-powered blast at the metal mans neck, hoping the joint might be a vulnerable point. "More than enough fire-power to kick your ass!"

It shot out, but before it could even scratch the surface of the robot, it hit an invisible wall, ricocheting backwards and blasting the rock behind him. It shattered the rock, sending sections of the wall loose and crashing down around Ted and Felicity, Booster only just turning in time to throw up his own force field around them before they hit.

Fiercely, he turned back towards the robot, aware they were trapped. He glared, slowly returning both feet to the ground beside Felicity.

"You will re-create the code for Artificial Intelligence," the red robot said, a finality in his voice, looking only at Felicity. "Or he'll be the first one to die – and don't doubt that I will kill him. Booster Gold has no use to me whatsoever. You were willing to sacrifice your life to stop me," Carapax finished. "But are you willing to give _his_? You have an hour."

He left, and this time the door sounded a lot like a coffin lid slamming shut.

* * *

"Felicity?"

The name tore itself out of Oliver's throat, scorching him on the way up and lingering there like smoky aftertaste. It was toxic: it scarred his lungs to the point where they struggled to breathe heaving breaths as he stood alone in the middle of the forest, surrounded by too much green to think straight.

_I'm on Pago Island, not Lian Yu_.

It was a mantra he had been repeating to himself for over two hours as he searched, the words burning into his brain every time it all got a bit too familiar and his heart started to race. It was everything about this place – the smell of dirt was overwhelming, nothing like the smell in the city, which was filled with petrol and garbage. The roar of the ocean.

He had found that phrase strange before Lian Yu, the concept of water _roaring_; but after years of hearing the waves smashing together, fighting and clamouring for more like lions in the coliseum, it finally made sense. It was deafening from any point on the island, unavoidable.

Being there was making the person he was on Lian Yu return.

Oliver had spent a lot of time running from that person, the one who would do anything to survive and damned the consequences, the one even he was afraid of – that person was desperate. And desperation made anyone infinitely more dangerous than they were before. The Oliver on Lian Yu had no limits, no lines to cross, but _he_ did.

So whenever his hands started to shake on his bow or the noise of the ocean grew too loud to bear, Oliver closed his eyes and repeated his mantra.

_I am on Pago Island, not Lian Yu_.

But all bets and thoughts of stability were off when Felicity announced she was running into danger, even though he argued and tried to get her to think. But she had a steely edge to her voice, one he recognised from all the times she had put him in his place when the man he was on the island started to surface and grow restless. It meant that she wasn't giving in.

Then she was just _gone_ with a gust of wind, the other end of his comm crackling after a few seconds, before the name had even fully left his mouth, and Oliver _lost it_.

"No, not now," he murmured, feet moving before his brain caught up. Oliver was running for the beach, towards the little red dot on the special watch they had given him to track everyone's locations. There was no thought behind it, no consideration of pacing himself or conserving energy, just muscles screaming as he ran full pelt.

"Oliver, come in."

He recognised the voice as Diggle's. "Did you find something?"

"Did _you_?" Diggle questioned. "I've got you as suddenly moving _very_ fast towards the beach. What's going on?"

"Felicity. She and Booster found something – I told her to_ wait_ but she wouldn't listen, Diggle," he said. While they had been speaking, Oliver's running had slowed, thoughts finally catching up with him – in every one was Felicity, hurt or dying. That alone made his feet lead, each step putting more strain on his lungs. "They went ahead. We have no idea who or what was waiting for them, Digg, I – she could need us."

"Whoa, Oliver," Diggle commanded, leaving no room for argument. "Slow down."

"I _can't_," Oliver panted. Slowly, he was becoming aware of his own breathing, it's irregularity – it came in huffs and gasps, like a drowning man. The only time he felt like that was when waking from a nightmare. "I need to get to her, I need to-"

"You need to listen to your own advice. Go to the beach and wait for us there, we're on our way."

"No, Felicity could be-"

"Damn it, Oliver! Do you think you're the only one here who cares about her?" Diggle snapped. It was rare that he lost his temper, so the waves of frustration mingled with worry rolling off his tongue managed to pull his stricken friend back to his senses; Oliver stopped running. "You might be my brother, but Felicity is my best friend. I want to help her, too. And the way we do that is by working together, we're stronger that way and you know it. Go, but wait for us."

Oliver's legs shook underneath him as he bent over double, struggling to regain control over his own breathing. Count to ten. Repeat the mantra, but with another sentence: _I am on Pago Island, not Lian Yu. Felicity is okay_.

But even standing still, the ground felt unsteady beneath his feet like walking on sand, muscles twitching from the work out he had given them, tearing off like a stray bullet.

"Diggle?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Get here quickly."

When he moved this time, Oliver's head was clear. One foot in front of the other, he ran as silently as he could, careful to stay aware of his surroundings. If there was someone out there working against them, he didn't have to signal his position like a neon sign. All the greenery helped him in a way.

Pacing himself, the Arrow sucked in small breaths every few steps, forcing them to be steady and use only what he needed, keeping the panic at bay for now. Somehow, Diggle was one of two people who could silence his demons.

It took him ten minutes to get to the section of beach where Felicity had left her tracer at his renewed pace. As he got closer, Oliver slowed even more, moving without the leaves crunching underfoot and notching an arrow, slowly walking the perimeter of the tree's to check no one was there before moving onto the rocks. He found nothing – not a trace of life, or machine, or anyone other than himself even being there.

The first thing to hit him was the heat. Under the cover of the trees the island felt cool, a breeze touching his exposed cheeks as the branches over head provided a barrier from the sun, leaving him in a slightly cooler shadow.

Out on the rocks, it was unbearable. The sun beat down on his back as he walked towards the tracer he could see blinking on the sand in the distance, the leather of his costume clinging uncomfortably to his skin as a result, a light layer of sweat gathering in minutes, reminding him that if anything happened to the Bug, they were trapped on a pretty inhospitable island in the middle of the Atlantic ocean.

The thought chilled him, the tracer he held in his palm a moment later even more so. Logically, Oliver knew the tracer had been left there by Felicity for him to find, not dropped in a fight or lost – but his heart still gave a fierce kick of worry when he saw it. Head craned from his crouched position, he scanned the beach for signs of her, finding nothing but a few scattered footprints that seemed to vanish to nowhere, away from both the rocks and ocean.

"The cliff . . ." Oliver murmured to himself, remembering Felicity's anxious words. Gaze turning, he stood, slowly moving his eyes around the section, staring at the chalky surface until something caught his eye – a glint of something glass or metal, faintly, but enough to capture his attention.

He had only taken a few steps towards it when the sound of thundering footsteps across the beach triggered an instantaneous reaction, Oliver pulling his bow tight and aiming it in the direction of whoever was approaching. It took a few tense moments for him to place the face in his hysteria, but it was just Diggle and Sara, the former stooping right in front of him.

It took all Oliver had not to roll his eyes. "I see we've given up on subtlety."

"Please, paranoid bastard like you, I knew there was no way you'd be standing in the open like that if you hadn't checked the place out already. I trust your judgement," Diggle said, not even hesitating. He watched Oliver steadily, seeing the strain on his friends face. "What have you got?"

"The tracer," Oliver said. Opening his palm, he passed the object to his friend, eyes flicking to check Sara was okay and finding she had wandered a few feet away, face creased in thought. Turning back to Diggle, he pointed towards the cliff. "There's something up there, looks like a cave. I think that's where they went."

From her position crouched on the rocks, Sara tried to get their attention. "Guys-"

"Is it stable?" Diggle asked, squinting in the direction Oliver was pointing. "If we're taking the fight down there, we need to know that the roof isn't about to come down on us."

"Guys?"

"There's no way to tell, at least not fast enough for what we need," Oliver replied. He hated it too, going in blind. But he felt like they had wasted enough time already, his hands itching for the tautness of a bowstring and the sight of golden hair. "But its high. We'll either need a rope or the Bug to get up there."

"_Guys_!" Sara shouted, clapping her hands a few times and standing to get their attention. "God, what am I? A piece of furniture?"

"What?" Oliver snapped.

Crooking an eyebrow, used to this treatment but in no way putting up with it, Sara beckoned them over. "Put your hand on the stone. _Yes_, you heard me right. Just do it."

Sharing a look, Oliver and Diggle walked over to the rock she was standing on, lips as curved as a dagger and twice as deadly. Any other time, Oliver suspected he would have gotten an earful for not listening to her in the first place, but there was an intensity in Sara's eyes that was usually reserved for Laurel and her parents as she kneeled beside them.

It reminded Oliver that this wasn't all about him. Sometimes, he forgot that – and it was usually Felicity who reminded him. They all cared about her too, in different ways. He knew Sara for one never stopped appreciating the friend who, the first time they met, looked at her like a friend and not a killer.

Putting one hand to the stone, Oliver rested his other on Sara's shoulder. Then his jaw dropped, a lot of things Felicity had said over the comm link suddenly making sense. "Is that _humming_?"

"There's something down there," Sara replied, only a little smugly. "Sounds like machinery; if something that big is running down there, it must be stable. And for the vibrations to be this strong – the floor here could only be five feet deep."

"How can you be sure?"

"I got to know a little about caves, living in Nanda Parbat," Sara shrugged. "You'd need a concentrated blast, but with enough force we could blow this piece of rock, no problem. The walls of the cave should remain intact, but-"

"It'd be a way out," Oliver nodded, catching on. He looked up, the spark in her eyes captivating. "Do you think you could do it? Blow an escape route?"

Sara grinned back, "You bet your ass."

"I _am_," he replied, standing again. "I'm going in, I have to. I want you to stay here, start working on blowing it – wait, there's something blocking the comm link down there."

"Take this," she replied, pulling one of her sonic devices from her belt. She handed it to him, not letting go right away when he reached out to take it, forcing him to meet her eyes, where he could not lie. "Promise me – if you need me to blow it straight away, you'll set this off. Twice if you need me to come down there and help. _Promise me_, Oliver."

He nodded, "I promise."

"And you're not going alone," Diggle announced. Clicking a new round of ammunition into his glocks, he straightened. "The reason we lost Felicity in the first place is because we forgot what we are at our best – a team. If you're going, I am, too."

"Never doubted it," Oliver agreed. Suddenly, nothing mattered; not the feeling of the Island that had been constricting him slowly since he set foot there, not the pain of absence in his chest, not all the bad in the world he needed to stop and fight to come. It made a little more sense, knowing somebody else had his back – and always had. "Let's go."

* * *

It took a few minutes for Felicity to turn to Ted. Her voice was thunder. "Explain."

He sighed, "When I first came here with Dan, it was to stop my Uncle Jarvis."

Felicity blinked up at him, nose pinched. "Your _dead _uncle?"

"My presumed dead uncle," he rolled his eyes. "Apparently, not so dead after all. I'd found a box of his things in my attic – papers, maps – leading here. We came, and we found _that_. A robot – not fused with a person, but an army of robots Jarvis had created. He said _I'd_ created them."

"Well, had you?"

"Do you really think that little of me? Of course I didn't!" Ted snapped. "He'd stolen my tech, manipulated me into making them."

Felicity cut in, "I know the feeling."

"That was different, okay? With you, there was no danger in it! It was supposed to be safe."

"Yeah, because that worked out _great_."

Booster winced. He had seen Felicity angry, but the biting, cold attitude had never been directed at Ted before. He didn't think that she would go that far with him, no matter what a bonehead Ted had been, so he used his one selfless moment of the year to speak up. "He did it for me, K."

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning to him. He saw the betrayal reflected there, the sinking feeling that they had both let her down rising.

"He was trying to fix my robot from the future," Booster explained. The tips of his ears turned red, as he struggled to maintain eye contact while he spoke. "Skeets. He was A.I, and could speak and think and help. He was kind of my only friend, before I met you guys. But there was an accident, and he broke. Ted was trying to fix him for me."

"I could fix the machine, but not the intelligence," Ted admitted, but his voice was solemn. He was not looking for absolution, but let the guilt linger. "I knew you could, but you wouldn't. Not after what happened at MIT with Cooper and the virus; you wouldn't risk creating something dangerous again. And I didn't want to put you in that position."

"We gave you a tablet with some of Skeet's code on it while you were distracted," Booster said. "You fixed it without ever having to pay attention to_ what_ you were fixing. You're that smart."

"So you manipulated me into creating Artificial Intelligence, and now a homicidal robot wants me to re-create it?" Felicity said, not pausing for breath during the entire sentence. It was forced out, angry, matching the darkness in her face as she glared at both of them. "And before that, you created a robot army and didn't tell me?!"

"I thought they were all destroyed, but yes. Essentially." Ted tilted his head to the left, lips twisting together. "And now our robots are _maybe_ going to take over the world."

"Stop calling them_ our_ robots!" Felicity shouted in reply, clubbing Ted over the head a few times in an effort to get her point through his thick skull. Visibly shaking from anger, she stood over him as he ducked his head as much as he could with the limitations of the chains. "_You_ did this, Ted. I can't believe you . . . you-"

"Hey! Hey, stop hitting the guy who can't defend himself!"

"No!" she yelled immaturely, the last of her blind anger draining from her body. Hands going to her forehead, she slumped, sitting on the concrete, tears stinging the back of her eyes. This hurt, a lot. It felt like a betrayal. "How could you do this?"

He babbled, trying to defend his actions although he knew he was wrong. But even as he spoke, his stomach churned and bubbled with guilt, twisting him to sickness at the sight of his best friend sitting and crying in the dungeon, thinking it was her fault.

"I – I never meant for this to happen, I was just trying to fix Skeets. It was never supposed to be like this, Felicity. . . Felicity? Please, don't . . . don't ignore me. I've been down here for days on my own. You're right. You're always right." Ted's voice grew quieter with every word, thick with regret. "It's all my fault._ I_ did this to us. I'm sorry."

Felicity didn't answer. Still sitting with her feet tucked up to her chest, her arms looped around them, she turned her head away from him at the apology, her only sound muffled sniffling.

If he could have put his head in his hands, Ted would have then. Instead he hung it, feeling the migraine that had been building for days spike beneath his eyelids; crushed, Ted bitterly grit his teeth, speaking as though pained, "I really screwed up, didn't I? Everything that's happened these past few months – becoming the Beetle, finding you guys, what we've done in the city – I thought it meant something. I thought I was making up for it. For Dan, for – for letting him die down here."

Felicity felt a kick in her chest. She looked up, turning back to him. "What happened wasn't your fault."

His words broke off with a shake of the head, dismissing it, even as a few tears leaked from the edges of his eyes. "I thought that I could do enough, that I could be enough, to make up for not saving him. I thought I could make Dan proud. But this? I've messed up so bad, I don't even know if we'll be able to stop Carapax. Instead of saving the world – I might just have wiped it out."

Felicity tried to be angry at him for a minute, but managed maybe twenty seconds before she cracked.

"Hey," she said, moving closer to him again. Sitting at his feet, she put a hand on his knee so he looked up at her, eyes bright with tears – in them, she saw his guilt. Ted spent his life wearing his heart on his sleeve, and all the while it was bleeding for the world around him. He _cared_, more than anyone she had ever met. He didn't mean for this to happen, not that she ever thought he did – but as much as he cared, Ted was ten times as arrogant and fifty times as reckless, so he didn't always think his 'brilliant' plans through. He acted on impulse, and sometimes that had consequences, like right then. But she forgave him anyway. It's what friends do. "We're gonna find a way out of this. Whatever – whatever we've done-"

"_I've_ done. This is on me, Felicity." Ted cut her off. His next words were barely more than a whisper. "I should have been the one to die down here."

"You can't think that!" she argued, grabbing his hands in her own this time. Feeling her own eyes well up and begin to steadily flow, Felicity leaned in closer, upright on her knees now. "Look at me –_ look_ at me, right now. You couldn't have known this was going to happen."

"I never do. I still chose to create something potentially dangerous."

"Maybe," she nodded. "And I'm still mad about that. It's something we're going to have a very long, serious talk about when we get out of here. But that doesn't matter right now, none of _us_ do – what matters is stopping Carapax."

"How?"

"He left _me_ with tech," Felicity said, smiling. Her eyes jumped to the partial lab and computer system to the left, and it was only then Ted noticed she had hidden her purple handbag behind his chair, pulling out a tablet. "I'm going to use it – just not how he wants me to. You, cut him loose."

The last part was directed at Booster, who switched places with Felicity to quickly begin work using his gauntlets to blast the chains, slowly heating them until he could kick them, breaking them enough to free Ted. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually he broke the chain, unwrapping it with ease and helping his friend to his feet.

"Whoa," Ted said, falling in the exact same way Felicity had as soon as he stood. When Booster caught him, he didn't even pretend to be fine – Ted sent him a shaky smile of gratitude until he found his feet, walking together to the clicking of a keyboard. "I've been sitting like that for days. I can't tell you how badly I need to pee."

The joke was a weak one, but Booster laughed anyway. "I sure as hell ain't helping you do _that_."

Rewarded by a more genuine smile, Booster felt his own face ache from grinning at seeing Ted alive and well. Felicity looked up, saw this, and rolled her eyes.

"You two can get a room later, right now I'd get your weapons out and be ready – there's no way Carapax won't know what I've done."

Booster tore his gaze to her, disbelieving. "You've been on there for _two minutes_."

"I'm _that _good," Felicity replied, grinning like she stole all the light from a solar storm and put it in her smile. She took in their gawping and grabbed her bag again, fishing out a metal object that she tossed to Ted this time – his air compressor gun. "Come on, Teddy boy – keep up."

"God, I love you," he replied, catching the gun deftly and standing alone, the adrenaline filling his body quicker than the pain could.

"You better," she answered, eyes never leaving the screen but full, bright from more than just the reflection. This was Felicity in her element, and it was scary and brilliant. Walking over, Ted took one glance at the lines of coding on both that and her tablet screens, which he recognised as a virus she had developed to attack video cameras he came into contact with while in the Beetle suit, turning any video and audio footage taken of him to a grey screen and white noise.

It stopped Carapax from seeing their little revolution, but it probably wouldn't go unnoticed for long.

"We need to get out of here."

"Yeah, working on it," Felicity replied, looking up ahead. "Dropping the force field in 3, 2, 1 –"

With a humming noise sounding out the powering down of the force-field, Felicity's smile widened in victory for half a second before a second sound clicked in; ahead, the room became laced with straight lines, cutting them off from the door. Lasers.

"Who the hell uses lasers in real life?" Booster yelled, saying what they were all thinking. It left them in the same position they were in five minutes before – trapped thirty foot away from the only exit with no windows or other means of escape, a homicidal robot just a room away.

"Don't worry," Ted announced, but he wasn't really Ted anymore. While they were talking, he had picked up his broken goggles from the floor, powered-up his gun, stood with his back straight and tensed. The Blue Beetle was back in business. He turned and flashed them a dazzling smile, "I'm an ex-gymnast. I've _so_ got this."

"Ted, oh god_ no_-"

"Holy shit don't do it-"

Booster and Felicity shouted protests in tandem, the latter's falling incomprehensively into a scream as Beetle ran full pelt towards the laser beams. Just as her scream reached its peak, he launched himself into the air, twisting above a pair of lasers at waist height and landing in a roll beneath another. When he stood, Felicity lapsed into silence, hand held over her heart and mouth agape.

She assumed that he would slowly manoeuvre a way through the laser grid from there. She assumed wrong.

Beetle stood for less than a second to assess the space in front of him and the distance he needed to travel. Then he _flipped_. Booster's hand clapped over his mouth as Ted, like some freaking spy in an action flick, literally flipped through a grid of lasers, switching from hands to feet in every landing and varying the heights of each leap to compensate for the beams of light. It couldn't have took more than thirty seconds for him to cross the space, each movement punctuated by squeaks and half-screams from the other end of the room, where his two co-conspirators watched in abject horror.

When his feet touched the floor for the final time, Beetle stopped with his back to them, lifting his gun and shooting a control panel on the right hand side without a word. The laser grid shorted out, and he turned to them seriously, silhouetted in the shadows.

Then he stepped forward into the light with a goofy grin covering most of his face, "Tell me that looked cool."

"You're a moron," Booster said to himself, the hand on his mouth going to his head. He huffed a breath out heavily, meeting Felicity's eye, who was struggling not to laugh. "I'm sorry. I can't believe you had to deal with that idiocy alone for years."

She shrugged, "You get used to it. Trust me."

"Hey, I can hear you!" Ted shouted from across the room, pouting. A hand strayed to his hip. "I'm still right here."

"Unfortunately," Felicity replied, and Booster snorted. It was okay again; they all felt it. A change in the air. It started in their guts; a warm feeling, spreading out, filling everything – bones, blood, hearts – it was like hope. She looked up, but Beetle was wryly smiling in her direction. She grinned back. "And now . . ."

As a reveal, she hit a button on her tablet and the machines around them went haywire. Suddenly, they shifted into overdrive – they had been slowly making parts for more robots before, but at Felicity's touch the steady chugging screamed into a groan. As the machines struggled under the new speed, too fast for them to safely process, circuits shorted out around the room, sending sparks flying wildly in the roar.

The main lights went out immediately. There was no gradual loss of light of flickering, just a total, complete blackout, like a candle being blown out in the wind.

"Felicity?" Ted shouted, looking around. In the cacophony of noise all around, the groaning and shrieking of machinery that would haunt his dreams for years to come, his own voice was swallowed up. Booster was across the room, emitting his own glow from his suit, but not enough to see far. Ted took off, back the way he had just come across the room, looking for his friend. "Felicity! Where are you? We need to get out of-"

"What have you done?!"

Carapax stood near the exit, blocking their way out. The only thing Ted could see were two red eyes in the darkness, staring into him. The hulking robot form was hidden, which should have been a relief, but somehow it only unnerved him more.

"What we had to do," Ted replied.

Then Beetle pulled out his gun and started shooting, blasting Carapax in the chest repeatedly until the robot fell backwards into the cave wall. It shook violently, jerking Ted from his feet. Landing hard on the ground, thumping, a drum beneath him, he realised what they had forgot to calculate – the cavern could handle the machines as they were, but the maxed-out workload was causing too many vibrations.

The cavern was going to collapse.

By the time he was on his feet, Booster had taken the charge. Flying above Beetle's head, he sent blasts from his gauntlets into Carapax's chest. They made him stumble, but nothing they had was enough to defeat the robot. It was just prolonging the inevitable.

"Fools," Carapax said, stopping the fight. He stood tall, red eyes still the only thing they could see. "You will die down here."

To illustrate his point, a large part of the ceiling fell, barely missing Booster; clipping his shoulder, the rocks brought him crashing down to earth with a groan. He couldn't see it, but from the sound mingled in with the machinery of heavy crashes, rocks breaking up, he knew the rest of the cavern was faring about the same. It wouldn't take long for a wall to crack, and then the collapse follow, burying them.

The robot turned, meaning to leave them in the collapsing cavern. It walked down the passage, heading for the sunlight, while they stood in the dark waiting to die.

"Booster, you have to stop him," Beetle shouted, turning to his friend. Picking the glowing man up, Ted looked through cracked goggles in the chaos, not able to even see the roof to know if it would collapse in the next second, and he pleaded. "You have to follow him, get out of here. One of us has to stop him."

Booster shook his head, "Ted,_ no_-"

"I did this! I can't let him get away and hurt people," Ted was shaking his head, hand on Booster's shoulder. The way his voice quivered wasn't right - it sounded like he had given in. "I _can't_. Please, pal. I need you to do this for me. I need you to stop him."

"I'm not leaving you again!" Booster argued. "I did that once, and I thought – _we _thought we'd lost you."

Ted shrugged simply, "I can't leave. I have to find Felicity."

The cavern gave another creak, debris falling around them in heaps. Although it was lost in the noise, Booster let out a scream of frustration, lips coated in dust and throat raw: he felt the absence of Ted's hand on his shoulder like a cold burn as they were forced apart. Head twisting, he spared a glance towards where he knew the tunnel was – Carapax was out of sight.

Ted's desperate eyes were sickly in the faint yellow light, and Booster left a heaviness fill him, lifting up a finger before saying, "You come out. You find her and you follow me right out, okay?"

Ted nodded, "I will."

Booster paused for a moment longer, but turned and flew away, taking the light with him. In the pitch black, Ted turned his head, not that he would know if he were staring at wall or machine or even right at Felicity. On his skin, he could feel the light layer of dust that was falling, the thumping beneath his feet like a dancefloor as he stumbled in what he hoped was the direction of the chair he had been held captive in, knowing that was the last place he had saw Felicity.

Coughing, he held out a hand and shouted again, but the screaming of metal on metal was overwhelming. His ears were ringing. If it came, he wouldn't see Death coming. "Felicity? _Felicity_!"

* * *

Oliver was climbing the cliff face when a twenty foot robot jumped over his head and onto the beach below. It was kind of startling, which what was he told people afterwards when they asked why he let out what could only be described as a squawk and let go of the rocks, falling himself.

In pain from the jolt of his landing, Oliver winced and slowly stood, not quite sure what the appropriate reaction to this was supposed to be. He settled for slaw-jawed awe, drawn to how the red metal shone in the sun. The robot stood in the sun, reaching out hand and watching it oddly, as if trying to feel the sunlight on its cold metal skin, fingers flexing and uncurling as it stood unaffected and apparently unaware of their presence.

Blinking, Oliver opened a sand filled mouth, "What the-"

Two things happened at that moment: Booster flew out of the cave after the robot and hit it with a blast strong enough to knock it to the ground, and the entrance to the cave collapsed.

Oliver jumped out of the way of debris, diving as the rock slide almost overcame him, thundering as they fell, sealing whatever lay within. Stumbling forwards, he outran the collapse onto the sand, notching and firing an explosive arrow into the back of the robot as it tried to get to its feet to pin it back down. He ran ahead to stand by where Booster was flying, looking up.

"What is it?"

"Calls itself Carapax!" Booster yelled back, "It's a guy, or he used to be. He fused himself with a robot. We have to stop him."

Oliver nodded in agreement, turning around to look for Beetle and Felicity. Seeing the beach deserted aside from Diggle, who was running towards them, whites of his eyes showing as he took in their foe, the Arrow frowned. "Where are the others?"

Booster didn't answer, hanging his head, which was answer enough.

"No," Oliver breathed. Turning back to the cliff, he saw the rocks piled up there, blocking the way out – cutting off the air supply. Beneath his feet, the ground gave another jolt, close to collapsing. Without a second thought to the robot and fighting and what happened next, because if Felicity died there was no_ next_, not for him, Oliver ran back towards the rocks. He threw himself onto them, scrabbling up them like a senseless staircase; where the tunnel began, he started desperately moving rocks.

"Please, please, please."

The muttering was a side effect of the desperation that ruled his body and mind. Oliver was sweating from the effort, every rock he lifted getting heavier as he grew weary, the wall of stones in front of him not seeming to grow any thinner no matter how many he moved. Underfoot, he was slipping every few seconds as the unstable pile shifted unexpectedly, jagged edges of the rocks pressing against his ankles.

Oliver's hands were raw and bloody, cut up by rock, leaving impressions on every one he lifted, but still he did not stop. He couldn't. They needed him.

_They're probably dead already_.

"No! Shut up, shut up," Oliver shouted at the voices in his head. The weakness in him was clear at his tone and the way he wasn't getting anywhere, the path ahead too blocked for one man to clear. He felt helpless - something he hadn't in a while.

Tilting his head back, he screamed.

In the background of the raw, animalistic sound he was producing Oliver was aware of a fight; Diggle's guns were firing, as well as the hum which accompanied Booster's blasts. The other sounds he assumed must be Carapax – louder blasts, the clanking of metal and curses shouted in a voice that was too human. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, the Arrow pressed his head against the stone.

Facts: He wasn't getting anywhere trying to clear the path. Felicity was trapped under there. He _had_ to save her. He had to –

Oliver's eyes flew open. He had to blow the beach and make another way out.

Hands flying to his quiver, he grabbed the sonic device Sara had given him, remembering her words: set it off once to immediately blow a hole in the roof of the cavern. Hoping he wasn't too late, Oliver held the device in the air and pressed the red button.

* * *

"Felicity? Felic-" Ted broke off into a deep round of coughing that left him leaning against the wall, hardly able to stand. There was dust everywhere and it was getting thicker in the air, more and more rocks falling from above – there was still no light, no way to see them coming. The world was shaking; he knew from the way his head spun that he wouldn't survive much longer down there.

Ted was walking through hell, but he had to keep going.

"Felicity!"

The noise was still deafening. A few steps more, and Ted fell, colliding with something steel and falling to the ground, hands cut on fallen rocks as he went. Groaning, he forced himself to sit up and touch the object, feeling its edges around to figure out what it was – the chair.

That at least gave him some perspective of where he was in the room, but he couldn't stop: Ted stood again, desperately hoping for something, anything, to tell him where Felicity was.

Staggering, something ahead caught his eye. It was half obscured by something, but shining through was a light, tiny, end-of-the-tunnel style, but it was a light nonetheless.

Unintelligibly breathing words of relief, Ted managed to run the last few steps to it; throwing himself to his knees, he felt around and found rocks, pulling them away and finding Felicity underneath them, the light coming from the tablet still clutched in her hands.

"Oh, no, no," Ted muttered, brushing the dust away from her face and cradling her head in one hand. The light from the tablet let him see her, but it was when his hand touched something wet that he realised she was bleeding from the head. "Felicity, wake up. Please."

At his touch and words, she stirred a little, coughing herself awake. Not moving apart from her eyes, she slowly blinked up at him, tears falling as she came to, trickling down the side of her face. When she saw the blackness and reddish layer of dust covering Ted, it only took even her concussed brain a few seconds to piece it all together.

"Ted."

"What happened?"

"A rock hit my head when the lights went out, I never saw it coming," she whispered back. It hurt to talk, throat dry from the dust that had gotten into her mouth while she was unconscious. Swallowing, Felicity tried not to cry out in pain as Ted moved her so he was holding her better, leaving her lying over his knees, his arms around her protectively. She could see no one else. "Booster?"

"I told him to go after Carapax," Ted said. "I'm sorry. Someone had to stop him. But you did the rest. You stopped the machines, Felicity – he can't make any more."

"Good. It's _okay_, Ted," she blinked up at him, but couldn't stop the tears. "I know what's happening. And it's okay. It's okay."

"No. No, it isn't," he replied, rocking back and forth. His own eyes were flowing, streaking down his face and removing the dust for just a few seconds before more fell to replace it. "I should never have gotten you involved in this, it's my fault."

"No," Felicity shook her head, although it took most of the effort she had left. "I would have been doing this anyway. I chose this life because I knew I could make a difference." She allowed herself to laugh for a moment, "It's not a bad way to go out, saving the world."

Ted sobbed in reply, crushing his head towards her in what was too awkward to be a hug. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Felicity allowed it, burrowing her head into his neck, breathing in his smell underneath the overwhelming scent of dirt. She cried harder herself, allowing the fear to show on her face now he couldn't see it, glad she was being held by someone she loved and not alone.

"I forgive you, Teddy. I'm glad you're here with me," she said tearfully, still cradled. "I'm glad it's you."

"I love you," he replied, squeezing her tighter. It was getting darker by the second, the little light from the tablet not doing much now the dust was coming down even more thickly, both of them so used to the vibrations that they stopped noticing the shaking, the clumps of rock falling around them insignificant. They were together; that was all that mattered. But Ted would never let it end in tears, so he added, in their old goodbye, "Nerd."

Felicity laughed, and it was the best sound in the world. It was weak, and mingled with tears, but she shuddered with laughter in his arms, clinging to him more tightly as a rock fell and smashed the tablet lying to their left, leaving them in darkness once again.

She felt his grip grow tighter in the dark and squeezed her eyes shut, replying in turn. "Dork."

The darkness took them, clinging to each other in the end of the world.


	18. Khaji Da

**'Khaji Da'**

Oliver was running across the beach, sand slipping under his feet as they slapped the surface. The rocks were they had found Felicity's tracer was a minute away, less at the speed he was going; stopping at the site, Oliver found Sara kneeling on the floor.

"What are you doing? We need to blow it!"

"I'm trying!" she replied, feeling around for something in the rocks. Her small hands felt their way around the rocks until they dipped into the hole she had found earlier, exposing a weak point in the rocks. She grinned, "Got it."

Sara pulled a second sonic device from her own belt, motioning for Oliver to stand back as she placed it in the hole, changing the setting before she secured it, slamming the button with her palm.

It shrieked, but the Canary didn't flinch at the sound as Oliver did, used to it and its proficiency. The rock beneath them began to shake to a different frequency, the exploited crack deepening and growing larger. It cracked audibly, a spider-web of cracks in the stone.

When it collapsed, there was no warning. The cracks just grew too much to hold together, the rock split from the centre, disappearing into a dark void below and growing until it grew stable again, leaving a five foot around gap in the stones.

"What _was _that?" Oliver asked. When the stone had collapsed, he had been forced to run away a few steps so he didn't fall with it, the ground beneath him sinking before it crumbled. His face was a picture of shock as he ran around the crater to Sara.

"I had no explosives," she shrugged. "I improvised."

Oliver was proud of her. In his own way, he always had been; Sara had survived just like he had through the hell that was Lian Yu, she clawed her way back from the darkness of the League of Shadows but still had an amazing capacity for affection and love. She was strong.

He said, "I'll go down, find them. I need you to go and help Booster and Diggle. There's, uh, a robot."

"A Robot?"

Grimly, he nodded. The hole lay ahead of him as he stood beside her, staring down into it. A pool of white light from above lit what remained of the cavern: dimly, he could make out huge chunks of rock that had fallen when the ceiling collapsed, mingled with metal and the sound of gears grinding to a halt. Even the machines gave out and shuddered with the cave-in Sara had engineered - finally the shaking stopped.

But above all of that, Oliver saw destruction. Thick dust could be seen in the stream of sunlight, and the fact that entire machines had been pulverised by the falling rocks gave him little hope for the people down there. Mouth slowly falling open, the Arrow stared into the abyss.

"Hey," Sara said, appearing at his side again. Her hand on his arm was warm, but her eyes were as fierce as ever. "You're going to find them. They're going to be okay."

The stiff nod she got in response seemed to assure her; Sara was gone a moment later. Alone, Oliver fired an arrow into a crack between two rocks further away and winched himself into the pit.

When he landed, Oliver's feet kicked up dust. He stepped forwards a few steps, staying in the circle of light while he could, and shouted. "Can anybody hear me? Felicity!"

"Over here!"

The voice that shouted back belonged to Ted, but Oliver went running anyway. With the hole in the ceiling, there was a dim light in the collapsed cavern, and when draw to the direction of the voice he saw them – two bodies huddled together in the rocks.

"Is Felicity okay?" Oliver asked. There was no hesitancy or embarrassment in asking about her only and first, the desperation in his voice clear. Nearly loosing someone you loved made showing that love a lot easier. It took away the risk, because the biggest risk was losing them forever.

"I'm fine," Felicity answered, but her cheeks coloured a little. "Ted is too, by the way."

"Dandy, in fact," Ted added.

Climbing over the collapsed rocks to get to them, shocked more by the minute at their survival amidst such destruction, Oliver saw Ted stand and help Felicity up, keeping one hand on the girl at all times. The gesture struck him, but not in a jealous way: the closer Oliver got, the more he saw himself reflected in the way the other man was looking at Felicity – like he couldn't believe they were alive. The constant touch was just to confirm his disbelief, but Oliver knew the trauma would pass eventually.

Oliver reached them and mirrored the action, placing a hand on Felicity's arm quickly. "It's going to be okay."

Beside them, Ted let out a breath just short of a laugh. "Look at it."

"What?"

"The sun. I never thought I'd see it again."

The light was reflected in the tears brimming in Ted's eyes as he said it, and Oliver couldn't hate the man. He wanted to: looking for Ted is what had nearly got them all killed – especially Felicity. But by the way there was dust pounded into the blue of Ted's suit while Felicity was relatively clean, Oliver put together that Ted had put what he believed to be his last moments into trying to protect her. And Oliver couldn't hate anyone who loved Felicity as much as he did; someone who would do anything to protect her, just like him.

Blinking, Ted looked over to Oliver, nothing but earnest gratitude shining in his face. He held out a hand, "Thank you. You saved us."

"I'm just glad you're okay," Oliver replied, shaking it, but his gaze had wandered to Felicity again. Noticing, her face softened into a smile. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'm tired of the dark."

* * *

Felicity hooked her arms around Oliver's neck, clinging on to him tightly and trying to ignore the way their bodies were pressed together, as if the intersection of their hips and his hand on her back didn't set her skin aflame. Luckily, she had grown especially good at hiding it.

Prepared, he looked down at her. "You okay?"

"Having flashbacks of the last time we did this, actually," she teased, smiling playing on her lips. At this, Oliver's own twitched up as he fired an arrow out of the hole above, the rope attached going taunt a second later. It was one of his special arrows, and pulled them up a moment later.

Oliver grabbed the edge of the hole and hauled them both over the ridge, kneeling to put Felicity gently on her feet. She nodded a thanks as she took a few steps onto the beach, closing her eyes briefly. The touch of the ocean was on the breeze, and she never thought she could love a smell so much. The sun was warm on her skin and she could see the light through her closed eyelids, even though the sounds were no good, crashing and explosions, she was grateful to hear something other than the chaos below in the pit.

She was _alive_.

"So," Felicity smirked, turning back to Oliver. "Are you going to damsel-carry Ted up like that, too?"

The thought alone only turned her smirk into a grin. Just as he rolled his eyes at that comment, a hand appeared at the hole, followed by another as Ted's head appeared, looking between them. When Felicity made a face at him while Oliver offered a hand up, the brown haired man shrugged, "You were taking too long."

A loud crash behind them diverted all of their attention to the fight, which had moved further down the beach; with a simultaneous glance at one another, the three set off in perfect time together towards it.

They arrived to a rock being thrown by the robot, picking up the weight like it was nothing and flinging it towards Booster, who was struck by the rock as he tried to dodge it. Knocked off balance, Booster fell like a lead weight and hit the beach. He did not get up.

Diggle was firing into the robot as Sara had inexplicably managed to climb onto it's back, trying to open a control panel to shut the damn thing down, in what looked like the worst piggyback in human history.

All in all, the fight wasn't looking good for them.

"We have to do something!" Felicity shouted, coming to a stop just outside of the circle of motion. She looked to the two men beside her, noticing Oliver already had his bow in his hands, ready to fight. Thinking a thousand thoughts at once, one caught somewhere in her mind and she turned to Ted abruptly. "Wait! You've fought the same robot before, how did you beat him then?"

"_I_ didn't," Ted replied, shaking his head a little. His eyes had been on Booster's prone form, but he tore them away to look into hers searchingly now. "Dan did. And it cost him his life."

"How did he do it?"

Ted fumbled for words, struck at the realisation that last time he was on this island with that robot, he lost his friend and mentor. "I- uh, I don't know. He had powers, a scarab – I had it back at the base, but I could never get it to work for me."

"This?" Felicity asked, pulling the metallic blue beetle she had found when they were looking for Ted out of her bag. After the cleaning Diggle had given it, it shone in the sunlight, looking . . . unreal. Or not earthly, anyway.

"That's it," Ted nodded, brow furrowed. He wondered, but didn't ask how she'd got it. He had believed it lost, having carried it with him through every fight but loosing it when Carapax nabbed him back in the outskirts of Chicago. Running a hand through his hair, he babbled on, "But I could never get it to work like he did! There was . . . a word, a code, something he had to say to activate it."

"What? Ted, hurry!"

"Uh . . ." he paused, eyes flicking from left to right as he thought back. Suddenly, they froze. "That's it - Khaji Da!"

Felicity blinked, "Khaji Da?"

"_No_! Don't say it!" Ted screamed, but it was too late. Even before the words had finished leaving his lips, they were deaf to Felicity, who gave her own ragged scream of pain at the jolts of electricity surging through her arm in an instant, falling onto her knees in the sand, hand with the scarab in held in front of her.

It was glowing blue, as were the veins in her arm as she held it - as soon as she had said the words, the beetle had bitten into her skin, dripping blood down her palm as it buried itself in her hand. Connected to her now, it began its takeover, filling her bloodstream and turning her veins blue from her arm, creeping up her neck as she leaned back and screamed, stopping only when it reached her head – her brain.

Although her eyes were filled with tears streaming down her face, the pain so overwhelming Felicity could think of nothing but the agony in her palm, spreading like fire through her body, she could see two blurred shapes move in the haze. Vaguely aware that it was her friends, Ted and Oliver, she could only watch as Oliver tried to touch her and was blasted away by a blue beam of light. Ted didn't try to touch her after that, but by the way his mouth was working, she guessed he was trying to talk to her – but a buzzing filled her head, only drowned out by her own screaming. The entire time, she did not stop.

But as soon as the blue reached her head, the pain vanished instantly. Then, there was a voice.

Well, it was almost a voice. It was in no language she had ever heard, not human at all, but somehow, she could understand it. The voice in her head saw Ted, as she blinked the tears away and he came into focus; suddenly, the voice screamed that he was a threat and went into battle mode.

The effect was instantaneous. From the Beetle attached to her arm, armour grew, covering her arm and shoulders, even a helmet shielding her head, a screen inside letting her see a video feed of what lay ahead of her. A red scanner picked out weak points on her friend's body, targeting them, and her hand lifted not of her accord, a weapon of some kind powering up with a hum – pointed right at Ted's heart.

"No! No, he's not a threat, he's my friend," Felicity begged aloud, hoping she could communicate with the scarab on some level. It responded by recommending Ted's annihilation anyway, based on his obviously weak armour and the uselessness of humans. "No, I don't want to kill Ted! _Really_."

The scarab took that moment to point out that as it had scanned her memories, it knew she had threatened to kill Ted on multiple occasions, and a couple of times felt like following through.

Felicity just sighed, "I didn't_ actually_ want to kill him. I was exaggerating."

Apparently not understanding the concept of exaggeration, the scarab argued until a loud crash from the fight ahead drew its attention. Turning, the scarab scanned Carapax, picking out weak points and once again suggesting annihilation as the best option.

"Actually, you have no arguments this time," Felicity answered, but something tugged at her gut. "Can you make the visor clear?"

Grumbling, the scarab obliged her anyway. Felicity saw Ted clearer with the help of her peripheral vision, watching her slack jawed as she stood, waiting to go into the fight. She turned to him quickly, putting her human hand on his arm.

Relieved to see her face after the screaming and eerie silence under the helmet, Ted tried to ask ten questions at once. "Are you okay? What's happening? What_ is_ that thing?"

"Teddy, I'm fine. I think," Felicity looked at him. "The scarab . . . it's_ alive_. It's talking in a language, sort of like the code I write for computers. I can see it as I hear it. It can destroy Carapax."

"It can?"

"But should I? He's a _person_, Ted. Carapax's body is dead – if I destroy the robot, what happens to him?"

"He's not really alive," Oliver answered; Felicity turned on her heels to see him standing there. The scarab scanned him, suggested annihilation, which Felicity was really starting to worry about, but fell quiet when she told it to. She re-focused on Oliver, who was talking, "He chose to do this to himself, and he will hurt people if he gets away. He killed himself, Felicity. You're not killing him – he's dead already."

"Oliver's right," Ted agreed quickly. "Do you really believe a human soul can be traded into a robot? I don't. I think Carapax is an echo; a ghost. A human mind translated in codes into a metal body, an afterimage of the man, not truly him."

Although she hated that she cried, Felicity couldn't help the few tears that slipped down her cheeks. "I- I don't know-"

"Felicity, look at me," Oliver said, stepping closer. To show how much he believed in her, he put a hand on her currently metal arm, faith in her being in control showing as he looked her in the eyes. "He's a machine, not a man. You're saving the world. That's what you do."

She nodded twice, gathering her courage. Felicity turned towards Carapax. "Okay, Scarab. Let's do this."

Walking towards the robot, Felicity felt a kick of fear in her gut when it turned its gaze to her, knowing it could rip her apart. But the frankly scary, murderous voice of the scarab in her head promised she was in no danger, lifting its arm in less than a second to let off a series of short blasts at Carapax's vulnerable areas.

The robot fell to the ground, but before the scarab could take the final shot, Felicity reined it in. She forced it to walk to where Carapax fell. "You've lost," she told the robot. "Surrender now and live. We can help you."

"I'll never stop," a metal voice replied, the fluency gone; broken. "Not until Kord is dead, I'll never-"

The robot was cut off by the blast from Felicity's hands, circuits dead mid-word. Nobody threatened her friends.

But the blast knocked her back in a shower of sand, and Felicity Smoak was unconscious in the armour, leaving a smoking crater on the beach behind her.

* * *

"What I want to know is: what happened to the scarab?" Ted asked a day later, taking a pull of his beer.

All of them, Team Arrow, Beetle, Booster and Felicity, were sitting in the Bug, coasting over Lake Michigan. Ted had been working on a new camouflage feature, but had reversed it for now, so it looked to them like they were suspended in the air, nothing but the waves beneath them. It was beautiful.

Felicity shrugged, "I don't know exactly. I know the only reason I had as much control as I did was that it never bonded with me properly, and somehow – I don't think I was compatible. But I get the feeling it will be found one day; that it was _supposed_ to be somewhere."

"I don't pity the kid who finds it," Oliver said. He kept getting a look on his face when the scarab was brought up in conversation, despite the fact they would all be dead without it. The turn of his smile went sour, and he broodily drank from his own beer. "That thing almost killed you."

"Hey, I'm fine," Felicity answered. She had a scar left over on her hand from where it had attached, but the pain itself like like a dream, not a memory. She held up her palm to show him there was no harm done. But Oliver, being Oliver, didn't look satisfied. Instead, she put her scarred palm in his scarred hand with a roll of her eyes, giving it a squeeze; he looked marginally happier. "I'm alive. _We're_ alive. The world can sleep safety in its bed with a powerful team of super good-doers watching over it once again."

"Super Good-Dooers?" Booster snorted. "Nice name, Felicity."

"I've been going for the 'Anti-Carapax Cluster' in my head," Beetle added, smirking.

"The Super Seven."

"The Fantastic, Super Awesome, Just a Tad Good Looking and Spandex inspired Squad."

"Team just-here-to-help-out, nothing-to-see-here."

"The Amazing Beetle and his band of Buggettes."

"You always were a narcissistic bastard," Booster laughed at that last one, looking at Ted. "And I'm not your 'Buggette', thank you _very_ much, pal."

There was laughter all around them, and it felt good. The sun was above them, the water below, while two teams came together. It wasn't a costume thing, they had initially planned on going to the beach so wore shorts and shirts – a hideous Hawaiian pattern in Ted's case, not that he cared.

"I'm just glad it's over," Booster said, finally breaking the companionable silence. "I don't know what we'd do without you, K."

"Cheers to that," Diggle agreed, and Felicity flushed as a few glasses clinked together, mingled with laughter.

Embarrassed, Felicity looked away as another conversation broke out. She had been sitting on the floor by the chair where Oliver sat, enjoying the feeling that she was flying, but not she turned to face him, putting her chin on his knee.

His eyes were only on her, and he even smiled when she looked up at him, saying softly, "Hey."

"Hey."

"Long day, huh?"

"Long _year_," she agreed.

"Well, my offer still stands," he said. When Felicity looked up at him, brows drawn together, he grinned brighter, remembering a conversation from what felt like a lifetime ago. "You can _always_ talk to me about your day, Felicity."

A smile lit up her face as she remembered too, "Thank you, Oliver."

He had waited to say it, but couldn't stop the words tumbling from his mouth when she looked at him like that, the sun in her eyes. "Come back to Starling City."

She had expected this. Felicity sighed inwardly, "I _can't_, Oliver. I still have things to finish here." When he looked crestfallen, she squeezed his hands to regain his attention. "But, seeing as how Queen Industries is our business partner, I was thinking about asking Ted if I could become manager of our half of the Starling branch. It would mean splitting my time between here and there, and we'd have to work closely together – but I think we could make it work, don't you, Mr. Queen?"

Oliver's smile broke into a grin, disbelieve in his eyes. "I _know_ we could, Miss Smoak."

"And if we, as co-managers, have to see more of each other, I'd say we'd better start by having dinner next weekend," Felicity suggested, coy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Totally a business thing, of course."

"Of course," Oliver agreed, knowing it wasn't. Quickly, as their conversation had gone unnoticed by the others as they bickered over names and who had the coolest costume, he lifted their entwined hands to his lips and brushed her knuckle with them, putting them back in his lap and acting like nothing had happened a moment later.

Felicity went red, but shook her head at him playfully before they were distracted again.

"We do need a name, though, if we're going to team-up again," Roy said. "What do you think, Boss?"

"Uh, I don't know about teaming up," Oliver answered, pulling a face. "We fight crime, this isn't a club house."

"Oh come on, it's a _little_ a club house!" Ted argued, grinning. "There's nothing wrong with having friends. You know, I think we _need_ to team up. Maybe that way some humour will rub off on you."

"When hell freezes over, Kord."

"I'm getting toasty already," Ted grinned, like mud wouldn't stick to him. Felicity looked up and to her surprise; Oliver was smiling a little too. At Ted. Knowing they would never be best friends but glad the ice had cracked, Felicity looked back towards the group, her friends, and smiled.

"I've got an idea. How about the -"

* * *

**A/N: look how I very carefully didn't use 'justice league' at the end, so dc can't sue my ass in the future! So did you guys like Felicity wearing the Beetle armour - in my head, it only covered one arm and her head, but looked like Jaime Reyes Beetle Armour - which incidentally is why she had to lose the scarab at the end. It was meant to be found by someone else, so I hope you guys like that easter egg. This is the last official chapter of the story, but there will be an epilogue too. And maybe an alternate, sadder epilogue I considered, but I wanted to end this story happily. I hope you're all satisfied with the ending.**

**P.S - it would make my life if someone drew Felicity in the Beetle armour for me, and I would link it/you on my blog. keystonecomet on tumblr, message me.**


	19. Epilogue

A/N: This is it! The ending. It's been a long time coming. Thank you to anyone who has read this story, to anyone who has followed, favourited, commented - it means the world. I hope you enjoyed reading it like I enjoyed writing it.

* * *

**'Epilogue'**

"What time is the League meeting tonight?" Felicity asked, leaning over the back of their couch to talk to Oliver. His head appeared from the kitchen door a few seconds later, walking over with the popcorn for their movie night.

"Uhh, ten. I think?"

"Nice to know you're on top of the situation," she replied, only rolling her eyes a little. Once, just _once_, she would like to get to the meeting at the right time and not have to walk in late. It was embarrassing. They were supposed to be dedicated, responsible superheroes. Justice has no time for Truancy.

"We'll get there," Oliver replied, hitting play on the movie and settling with his arm around her. "I don't know _when_, but we'll get there."

"You're lucky they haven't kicked you out yet."

"So what if they did? I have my own league: you and me."

"That was almost smooth," she replied, only laughing a bit when he leaned over to kiss her, his stubbing brushing her lips –

"Hey guys! What are we watching?"

Felicity jumped and let out a little scream as Ted appeared from nowhere, vaulting the couch to take the last seat next to her. Groaning at her interrupted make out session, she turned to her best friend with a fake smile. "What are you doing here, Ted?"

"Movie night," he replied dumbly, but she knew that Ted was fully aware what he was interrupting. And he was _grinning_ – he would pay later. "I'm just here to hang out with you guys."

Oliver had slumped his head against Felicity's, but looked up when he realised Ted wasn't leaving any time soon. "Fine. Do _you_ know what time the League meeting is tonight?"

"8, maybe?" Ted shrugged evasively, "I usually just leave the house when Felicity texts to ask where I am."

"How have you both survived this long?" Felicity asked, exasperated, much to their amusement. "You're grown men, with phones and calendars. Would it kill you to remember a time and date?" She rolled her eyes until a thought struck her, "Wait, do you know if Barry's going?"

Oliver and Ted shared a glance, then spoke in unison, a terrible impersonation of her, "_Do you know if Baaarry's going_?"

"I don't talk like that," she replied, shaking her head, this time at their immaturity. "I don't get this thing between you guys and Barry. It's not a competition."

"I just don't get why you like the guy so much. I don't get why_ everyone_ likes him so much," Ted pouted, looking away. "Every meeting, people talk about how_ great_ Flash is and how much the people of Central City _love_ him and '_Why can't you and Booster cause that little destruction like the Flash does_?'

"And as your fiancée, I naturally dislike any man who you used to date," Oliver added. "It's just the way it is."

"We didn't date. We went on_ a_ date," Felicity replied. "It's not the same thing, at all. And Barry's a good person. You both like him – Ted, you and him were totally geeking out in the lab for like a day last week; and Oliver, you're the person who inspired him to be a hero. You just don't like that he's a good friend to me."

"But I'm still your _best _friend, right?" Ted asked.

"I've never met anyone as needy as you, _ever_."

"Nerd."

"Dork."

"The two of you stop, we're missing the film," Oliver said, trying not to laugh. "I'm not re-starting it. I swear, we have the same argument_ every_ movie night."

Ted just grinned, grabbing a popcorn kernel and tossing it into the air, ready to catch it in his mouth. But before he could, Felicity had reached out a hand and snatched it from the air, putting it onto her own mouth and laughing at the scowl she got in response. Felicity snuggled back into Oliver's chest to get comfortable, putting her feet in Ted's lap and disregarding his protests completely, letting out a content sigh.

Life was good.

* * *

** The End**


End file.
